Chapter 9 #3
“I’m not like your ex,” I said softly.
His eyes flickered. “I know.”
“I’m not going to use you,” I continued. “If anything, I know what it feels like to be used.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“And I’m not some random woman who wants the hockey-player version of you because I don’t care about that,” I said.
“I know that too,” he said again, rougher this time. “That’s what’s scaring the shit out of me, Catherine. That you aren’t like any other woman I’ve met before.”
For a second, we just looked at each other. My pulse kicked up. He cleared his throat and stepped back, like he needed physical space to keep from doing something reckless.
“Come to dinner.” His voice had changed to a plea.
I gave him a look. “That was a very intense transition.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” he said with a crooked grin that made my heart thump differently.
“I’m still in a bikini,” I reminded him.
“I noticed.” He swallowed.
My stomach flipped.
His jaw tightened. “Go shower. Change. Come over.”
“That sounds like a bad decision after everything we just confessed,” I brought to his attention.
“I have self-control, and I want to make it up to you after acting like a caveman a second ago. My goal isn’t to take you to bed and forget about it,” he said, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“No? What is it then?” I asked.
“I want to feed you. Take care of you. Get to know the woman you are today,” he said, and damn, he was saying all the right things.
“That’s more dangerous than anything else,” I whispered. This pull between us was undeniable.
“We aren’t apes. We can have a cordial dinner. I can make it up to you for acting like a crazed caveman,” he joked.
“What are you making?” I asked.
His mouth curved slightly, and some of the tension eased. “Chicken. Vegetables. Pasta if you’re nice.”
“I’m always nice.” I grinned.
“You called me out in front of Dr. Patel,” he reminded me.
“That was for your own good,” I replied.
He laughed, and the sound settled something in my chest.
“I know, and the fact you cared enough matters to me,” he said, and our eyes locked. I took in the gold and green swirling in their depths, feeling mesmerized.
This was trouble. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll come for dinner.”
“No wine.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“No wine,” he repeated. “We’ve proven alcohol makes us stupid.”
“That is rude and accurate,” I said with a laugh.
“Try to control yourself,” he joked.
I smiled despite myself. “I’ll be back in thirty. I need a hot shower if I’m going to be having dinner with you.”
He understood the meaning in my words, and his jaw tightened. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman. Take forty minutes.”
“Why?” I grinned.
“Because I need to shower too, and I need at least ten minutes to remind myself I’m not touching you.”
Heat rushed through me. I turned toward the elevator before I could do something stupid. “Good luck with that.” I smiled, feeling my whole body flush.
“Catherine?”
I looked back.
His eyes were on me, dark and serious. “I mean it. I’m not touching you tonight.”
I nodded, even though my body hated the idea. “Okay.”
The elevator opened, and I stepped inside.
This time, I did not say anything reckless.
I went upstairs, showered, got myself off twice in the shower, washed the chlorine from my hair, and stood in front of my closet trying to decide what a woman wore to a friendly dinner with the man who had just told her he wouldn’t touch her because he might not stop.
If nothing was happening, and if he had his AC on like every normal person in Dallas during July, then comfort was fair.
I pulled on an oversized butter-yellow thin sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder and matching baggy lounge pants.
The set was soft, casual, and not sexy. At least, that was the goal.
I skipped makeup because I didn’t have the energy, and I left my hair down over my shoulders because it was still damp and too much work to do anything else with it.
The two times I had come in the shower didn’t feel like enough, so I took out my vibie and lay on the bed with my legs spread.
I turned it on and went to town until I was coming and screaming Hunter’s name.
Thank goodness I had the condo to myself.
After, I got up and went to the washroom to wash my hands, but I knew I smelled of sex.
I had come hard. I grabbed my phone and headed down before I could overthink it.
Hunter’s condo was a few floors below ours.
I stood outside it for exactly five seconds, took a breath, and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately. Hunter stood there in dark joggers and a plain white T-shirt, hair damp from the shower, feet bare.
His eyes moved over me. Not the way they had in the elevator.
Not sharp and hungry. This was worse. His gaze took in my bare face, my damp hair, the sweatshirt hanging off my shoulder, the soft pants, the fact that I had shown up without armor.
He sucked in a breath. And that was where I knew I was in trouble.