Decan
kept his eyes on Hope, but didn’t miss the opportunity to give Marco another—harder—punch to the gut. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?”
“What? I thought that was funny.”
“I’m trying to keep her around and you’re being a dick.”
“Oh, c’mon! She was grinning the whole time. She seems like a woman who knows a good joke when she hears it. Besides, she couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole time she was on that treadmill.”
“Just keep your mouth shut next time.”
“How long do I have to behave around her? Because I’m not going to wait until your slow ass has a ring on her finger.”
groaned and rolled his eyes again.
“Oh, you’re honestly mad at me? How will you know if she’s a keeper if she can’t handle your best friend?”
“She came to the damn gym after saying she doesn’t like it. She only came because I asked her nicely.”
“Fine she’s a keeper and hot.”
“And she’s mine,” growled. “You better keep your hands and eyes off her.”
“Oh, is getting feisty,” Marco laughed .
“I’m not fucking with you.”
Marco sobered. “Okay. She’s yours and you will kill me if I ever look at her the wrong way.”
Neither of them mentioned Hope again, and they finished their workout.
Once in the parking lot, sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you were just messing with me. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”
“And I shouldn’t have fucked with you. I have no interest in taking this girl away from you.”
“Thank you.”
“I want this to work out for you, but I also like messing with you.”
“I know you do; you just got the better of me.”
Marco gave him a wink and nudged his shoulder before he walked to his own car.
Although tried keeping himself busy with work and grocery shopping, Friday couldn’t come fast enough. Once he couldn’t focus on editing, he tried to create some social media content, then moved on to cleaning his apartment—especially the kitchen.
He decided to dress casually, jeans and a black V-neck t-shirt, the lion on his chest peeking over the collar. And of course, the most important part: he left his hair down. Just before six, he got the telltale chime that meant someone was at his gate .
“Hi.”
“?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Oh. Good. I wasn’t sure if I did this right. These gate things always mess with me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you in. The guest spots are at the very top. I’ll come get you, so don’t run away.”
“Thanks, I’ll probably get lost finding you.”
He buzzed her in and grabbed his keys to meet her in the garage. Hope was waiting by her car, grocery bags in her hands. Jeans hugged her thighs beautifully, and the light blue blouse she wore matched her eyes.
“You look gorgeous.”
With her free hand she tossed her hair back and grinned. “Well thank you. You’re a piece of eye candy yourself today.”
Dramatically, he mimicked her move—which made her laugh. He took the bags from her and placed them in his lap, guiding her to the elevator.
Her fingers combed through his curls as he pressed the button to the sixth floor. “Have you always had long hair?”
“Off and on. I’ve just been lazy the last year or so and haven’t gotten it cut.”
“You don’t happen to have pictures of you with short hair, do you?”
“Oh, plenty.”
“Care to share?”
“There are a few hanging on my living room wall.”
“Good to know.”
As showed her to his apartment, her hand moved to his neck. Curious, she stepped inside and looked around as he took her bags to the kitchen. He watched out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for Hope’s reaction to the pictures he’d mentioned.
“I can’t decide which I like more: your short or long hair. Don’t get me wrong you look good with both, but it’s quite relaxing to play with. Does it bother you when I do?”
“Just the opposite. I like it.”
“Good, but I’m not going to keep doing it if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t; I promise.”
Hope joined him in the kitchen and picked through one of the bags he hadn’t gotten to yet, grinning when she found what she was looking for: a floral apron. “Wanna match?”
He chuckled at the atrocious, flowery fabric and took the one she offered him. “I’d love to.”
Once all the ingredients were set on the counter, grabbed his barstool from the corner and pulled himself to lean on it.
Hope peered up at him, crooking her eyebrows. “Show off.”
He simply winked at her and turned on the stove. Smiling the whole way, Hope filled a pot with water and set it to boiling. While he sizzled the meat, she kept an eye on the pasta and made the sauce with the help of his instructions.
“Was work less stressful today?” he asked as they started to put the layers together.
“Thankfully. Honestly, I have no clue what it was about yesterday, but everything seemed to go wrong. ”
rested his hand on the small of her back. “Those are the worst days. Even the smallest things can set you off.”
“Today was much better, but maybe just because it’s Friday. Did you work on the same manuscript today?”
“Yes, I tend to only do one at a time. Helps me keep my stories straight.”
“So, you make different suggestions depending on the author?”
nodded. “Some I’ve worked with for a long time. I know what their tendencies are like and it’s almost like hearing them speak, so I try to keep their voice alive as best as I can.”
“Do you have a lot that come back?”
“Some more frequently than others.”
“Do you prefer returning clients over new ones?”
“I make more of an effort to squeeze them in where I would turn a new client away. I know they’re returning business and it’s easier for me to edit for an author I already know.”
“That’s reasonable.”
He made room for her to slide the dish into the oven and set a timer. “Do you want to be formal and eat at the table or slum it on the couch with a movie?”
Hope visibly relaxed. “Slumming it sounds wonderful. ”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” It was only then that realised, “I never offered you a drink.”
“I was too busy to even notice.”
While they waited on the lasagne, they cleaned the kitchen together. He’d just handed her the last pan when the timer dinged. “Gloves are over there,” he said, directing Hope t o the correct drawer.
A few moments later, Hope held his plate while pulled himself onto the couch. They’d decided to choose a random movie that had been suggested by Netflix, and paused to admire that adorable happy dance.
She waited for him to finish his and took his plate. “More?”
“Yes, please.” It was so easy to let her do the little things, like grabbing him seconds of dinner. It seemed so natural to her and made it that much easier on him.
Once seconds were gone, Hope placed the plates in the dishwasher and returned with two cans of soda. Instead of letting her reclaim her seat, took her wrist and pulled her onto his lap.
“Come here.”
“So demanding,” she giggled, following his lead nonetheless.
“Please,” he added with a smile. Her thighs hugged him, but he could feel that she put most of her weight on her heels. “I know you like it when I ask nicely.”
“It does make me feel special.”
He rested his head against the back of the couch and sunk in, relaxing beneath her. “It’s our fourth date.”
“You counted yesterday as a date?”
“I saw you, didn’t I?”
“True.”
“So easy to convince you, huh?”
That bottom lip was back between her teeth again, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
“Hope? ”
“.”
“Why haven’t you asked yet?”
“Asked what?”
“What happened to me. It’s usually the first thing people want to know.”
“You’ll talk about it once you’re ready. And besides, nothing is going to change. You’ll still be the same handsome, cheeky man who caught my eye in the coffee shop.”
Hope’s words stung, and didn’t know why. She hadn’t said anything horrible. She’d only answered the question he’d asked.
Their eyes locked, and her brows fused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for my words to be so rude.”
“You were honest, and I would prefer honesty over a sweet lie any day.”
“I could have wrapped it nicer.”
“I’ll make sure to have some wrapping paper and a bow nearby for next time.”
brushed his thumb over her thigh, wishing she’d worn that dress again. The thought of her bare skin under his made his blood rush south. He closed his eyes, rolled his head back, and soaked up the moment. The movie played like white noise in the background.
“I used to race,” finally said. He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at her. “I was a speed junky. My car was my whole identity and then four years ago, I wrapped myself around a concrete pole. Woke up to doctors telling me I would never walk again.”
Hope didn’t say anything, only pushed her hands under his sh irt and flattened her palms against his stomach.
“Marco was actually the one to pull me from the wreck. He was the last thing I saw before I passed out. He stayed by my side the whole way through recovery. No matter how many heavy objects I threw at him, he picked up the pieces. He called me a jerk, but he stayed.”
Hope’s thumbs started to rub soothing shapes over his skin.
“I went to rehab, where they showed me that even though I wouldn’t be able to walk, I could stand if I worked hard enough. They ignored my bad moods, only cheering me on until I saw what I could do—what I could reach.”
“You’ve accomplished a lot in four years.” Hope’s praise was soft and timid, as if she wasn’t sure it would be appreciated.
“Thank you. It took me forever to accept the small victories.”
“Are you still going to physical therapy?”
“Like clockwork. Every two weeks.” He sighed and finally opened his eyes to see her face tilted down, gaze focused on her hands. “I haven’t been with a woman since the accident.”
“If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s too late.”
“I’m just trying to be honest with you.”
“Well, I haven’t been with a guy in some time.” sighed, but she didn’t let him counter. “We’ll figure it out. Baby steps.”
Unable to resist anymore, cupped her cheek and pulled her into a soft, gentle kiss. Hope leaned into his palm right away, leaving no doubt that she wanted—even needed —the kiss as much as he did. One hand pushed up to rest on his sternum while the other reached for his neck, her fingers spearing through his hair.
When she pulled back, she struggled to catch her breath. “I don’t want you to worry. I want to see where this thing goes.”
He pulled her into another kiss, needing to feel, needing to breathe her words. She melted into his touch, giving her full weight. Blood rushed through his veins, filling his cock and making it swell. He tried to focus on the warmth spreading from her touch rather than the building need between his thighs. He didn’t want to think about sex, not now. Not when being close to her felt this good.
Hope, however, seemed to have other plans. Her body shifted on his lap, grinding against his rapidly hardening erection.
“Hope,” he warned, brushing a thumb over her cheek.
“Too pushy?” she asked, pulling away again. “Sorry.”
He tightened his arm around her waist to hold her in place. “I didn’t say you could move.” This time when she bit her lip, he used his thumb to pull it free. His other hand slid over her waist and around to her ass where he grabbed her tightly. “But maybe next time you should wear a dress again.”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
He hummed, his chest vibrating against hers. Hope did seem to enjoy him asking, maybe even begging for things he wanted. “Please, sweet, gorgeous Hope? Would you give me the pleasure of wearing a dress next time we see each other?” And if he had to be honest, he loved begging for her .
“I only have that one,” she admitted, cheeks warming beneath his palm.
“The one you wore on Tuesday?”
Hope nodded.
“And why is that?”
“I try to avoid wearing them. My thighs rub up against each other.”
“Were you uncomfortable?”
“No. It’s okay if I don’t have to walk.”
“Well, then I’ll just have you sit on my lap when you wear it.”
Before she could suck on that bottom lip again, he shoved his thumb inside Hope’s mouth. Her lips curled around him in a cheeky grin, her teeth scraping the skin. He let out a long breath, his fingers now digging into her ass. “I’d like that very much,” she breathed.
The last word had barely left her mouth when their lips met once more. She ground her core against him, his cock testing the limits of his jeans. His body and mind were burning up, remembering what it felt like to be touched again. “Will you stay?” he asked, his tone far more hopeful than he was typically comfortable showing.
“Only if you let me borrow your clothes,” she giggled.
“They’re all yours.”
One more sweet kiss, and Hope pushed off him. “I might find a new favourite sweater.”
He indicated the direction of his bedroom. “Go for it.”
With a beaming smile, Hope turned and walked towards the back of his apartment and even though he couldn’t see it, she was probably curiously taking in his home. And liked how she looked in it.