CHAPTER 17 – CASPIAN
The door gives a mocking little jingle as it shuts behind me. Even the bell knows I humiliated myself beyond repair.
My skin feels hotter than the afternoon air. I walk toward my car, my vision blurry with disbelief and my body buzzing with attraction so strong I genuinely fear for my own well-being.
Just before I reach for the door, I realize it’s not my car. It’s a beige Honda with a rosary dangling from the mirror. The gray-haired woman inside turns toward me in slow motion, like a hawk spotting prey.
“Lovely weather,” I state stupidly, pointing at the sky. Then I pivot so fast I nearly dislocate my knee.
I finally manage to get into my own car.
Collapsing into the driver’s seat, I grip the steering wheel and let the shame wash over me. That stuttering disaster in the trattoria couldn’t have been me.
Except it was.
Oh my fucking God, it was.
But I don’t blurt. I don’t blush. I don’t advertise my singlehood to strangers no matter how beautiful their eyes are.
His were intense and dark like the richest espresso.
What the hell, Stone. Write a sonnet, why don’t you.
I just might.
He was so incredibly pretty it actually hurt to look at him.
His hair was almost black, soft curls falling over his forehead.
He’s tiny compared to me.
Long lashes. Pink lips. That little crease of confusion between his brows when I opened my idiotic mouth.
My hands shake as I rake them through my hair.
Who is he? I’ve never seen him before. I’d remember.
I’d definitely remember.
My stomach flips—not just with desire, but with a raw nervousness.
For the first time in my life, none of my rules apply.
Like, what the hell?
The Jackpot has been incinerated.
I close my eyes and picture him in my arms.
I’d do anything for him. To him. Let him do anything to me.
Fuck!
What a wrecking ball of a boy, smashing through my control like it never existed.