Chapter 15
Why does it shock me that Rhett remembers seeing me?
His sudden reserved demeanor is a stark contrast from his usual larger-than-life self.
I’m confused by his silence, but what really gets me is why I suddenly have interest in his opinion at all.
Given my current state of intoxication, I’ll be chalking this burst of curiosity up to a drunken stupor and choosing not to overthink it.
“Is that so?” I reply coolly. I’m indifferent to the answer, at least, I tell myself I am. Or maybe I do want to know what he has to say. I wait for his reply, the world around me feeling as if it’s spinning off its axis.
“Yeah, it was at…Gator Ray’s, wasn’t it?” He hesitates, but finds the bar’s name fast. I don’t mean to overanalyze, but to me that says he knew he just wanted me to think he didn’t. The night after the PAbrA event. Ya were talkin’ to some asshat who claimed to be my friend… He wasn’t by the way.”
No shit. Had he been, the entire thing would have probably been less weird.
“Just another day you thought being a superhero looked fun, huh, Casanova?” I blow out a breath, my words not as harsh as I intended as I say, “You know, not everyone always needs saving.”
Truth is, I had needed saving that night, but I’d be damned to admit that to him. His ego is already big enough.
He grunts at my remark as if it’s a physical blow.
The light from my duplex glows on the sidewalk a few feet ahead of us, and my relief becomes palpable.
Oh, thank God. With each step I take, the vertigo makes me feel like I’m walking on a tight rope, only seconds away from crashing to the ground.
I want nothing more than to change out of my clothes and get into something comfy before I pass out.
Despite being uninvited, Rhett trails up the stairs behind me.
I turn toward him, my frustration with his forwardness pushing me to my limit.
“You can stop right there, Cowbo—” I barely begin my statement as I tumble forward down the stairs, directly toward him.
Two big hands save me from planting face-first into the concrete.
Unfortunately, those hands don’t stop me from falling face-first into his.
His warm chocolate gaze stares back at mine.
And I can’t help but melt into it. It’s like my body and brain have stopped communicating.
He’s attractive, nice and funny, even if he’s the most cocky man I’ve ever met.
It would be easy to fall for him. Too easy.
Which makes him dangerous, because I know his type all too well.
Ever the gentleman. How many other girls has he walked home in the past in the hopes of getting invited in?
The realization is like a slap to the face.
I’m just drunk and he’s just another man doing what men do.
Stepping my foot back, I try to physically distance myself from him, but his hands keep me still. He leans forward and I hold my breath, meeting his eyes once more. His face is only inches from mine and I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks.
“Guess I saved the day, again,” he whispers so closely that our lips almost touch.
My eyes nearly flutter shut as I contemplate closing the remaining distance between us.
Trying my best to reject my desire to seize this moment for what it is, to take him in with my lips and ignore all the reasons I shouldn’t act on impulse.
Releasing me, he turns away. I open my mouth to protest what he just did, but no words come out.
He takes each step two at a time. Glancing back over his shoulder, he adds, “Have a good night, Angel.”
And before I can speak, he’s gone.