Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
He lifted her, and she hugged him tight, wrapping her legs around his waist. He wasn’t certain how long they stood making out on the driveway, but he could have gone on forever.
His dick was hard, but his focus was on kissing her. He slid his lips to the side, trailing damp kisses down her neck and back up, nuzzling his nose into her neck.
“You smell so good,” he said in a gruff voice. “I dreamed of that scent.”
Without warning, she pulled her head back, breaking their connection. “Aiden. No. We shouldn’t.” She released her arms, then her legs, and slid down his body.
Respecting her boundaries wasn’t easy, but he stepped back and waited for her to explain what was going on in her head.
When she remained silent, he met her gaze, turned on by her kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. “Is it your date? It went well?” He hated the possibility yet asked in a calm, reasonable voice.
“Actually, it went very well,” she said.
He stiffened and forced himself not to react or give her a reason to shut him out.
“But I’m not going to see him again.”
Yes! He curled his hands into fists but kept his elated emotions in check.
She sighed. “Look, you and I have unfinished history. And it’s obvious we’re still… attracted to each other. But we need to work on our friendship, that’s all. Me ignoring you, and you trying to sabotage my date, won’t work.”
An inappropriate smirk lifted his lips. “Is that what I did?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you tried to mess up my night. What else would you call it?”
He really shouldn’t say what he was thinking. “Staking my claim. And that kiss just proved it.”
She raised her hands and lowered them fast in frustration. “Argh! You can’t stake a claim on what you willingly gave away.”
He folded his arms across his chest, determined to get his point across. “We are long overdue for a conversation.”
She placed her hands on her hips and raised her brows. “You mean acting like an asshole about my date doesn’t count as a proper conversation?” Despite being serious, her lips lifted in an amused grin.
“I get it. Now, why aren’t you going to see him again?” If the date went as well as she’d said, he wanted to know the reason.
She shook her head, and let out groan, her exasperation evident. “Because he isn’t you, okay? I’m still angry, I’m hurt, I need to get over you, but dammit, Aiden, it isn’t easy. And then you go and kiss me—”
“Umm… I hate to point it out, but you kissed me first.”
“Aiden!” Her hands flew up in more frustration.
He held in a laugh, surprised by his good mood, but no matter what she said now, she couldn’t erase that kiss from his mind.
“I need to go inside,” she muttered.
He knew when to call it a night. “Okay, sleep well.”
“Thank you.” She turned and walked back toward the house, delicately due to her heels.
He had no doubt she’d feel better if she could stomp back and slam the door in his face. Again. She wasn’t upset with him, she was angry with herself for letting down her inhibitions and walls, if just for a short time.
As she topped the few steps of the front porch, he called her name. “Brooke.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“I missed you, too.” She hadn’t said those words, but he could read between the lines—or should he say, between her lips with that kiss. “And I want more from you than friendship.”
Ignoring him, she let herself into the house and shut the door behind her.
He stood there for a moment longer, unreasonably pleased with how things between them had gone. First, she wouldn’t be seeing her date again because of him. She hadn’t pushed him away and she’d been all in on that kiss. And despite her frustration with the past, and the present, he’d made headway.
Either that or he was delusional. Regardless, he’d take it.
Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he strode back to the house in a much better mood than when he’d left.
Chapter Twelve
Monday morning, Brooke stood in the shower, hot water cascading down her body. She went through her normal routine, her hands moving on autopilot as she washed her hair and shaved her legs, her mind a million miles away. Or rather, stuck on the man living in the house across the way.
His jealousy and flirty texts, the kiss, all painted a picture. He wanted more than friendship, he’d admitted as much. Unlike him, her heart and her head were in conflict. She loved him and always had, but forgiving him came with risks. The man had traveling and journalism in his blood. He might be home now to help his family, and he might even be telling himself he wanted to stay. She didn’t trust him to keep his word.