“I did ascertain that. I also think it’s incredibly hot that you just dropped a crossword-puzzle word into casual conversation.”
“I did it because I knew you’d like it,” she says, and runs her fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. Those sparks? They don’t just fly. They torpedo across my skin. They race through me. They live inside me with this girl. I’m so far gone for her, it’s ridiculous.
How did I ever think I could just let her walk away? I can’t, no matter who her brother is. I’ll just have to sort out that little snag another time.
“I like it. I also really like that you’re not into him,” I say, as I lean my head back into her hand, turning my face to meet her gaze.
“Why does that make you glad?” She inches closer to me as the cab swings around the corner, nearing the train station.
“Because I’m a greedy bastard, and I want you to myself,” I say, and it’s not a full-on admission of all that I feel, but it’s a start, and that’s how I’m going to have to take things with her. Step by step.
“You have me. Don’t you know that? I couldn’t do the things we’ve done in bed and feel that way about anyone else. I swear, Nick, I haven’t felt a thing for him since well before the night you kissed me. Since well before I sent you the pencils. Since before the laundry detergent, even. And I never ever felt a thing for Jason.”
My heart thumps hard against my chest, fighting its way to her. “I fucking loved it when you gave me laundry detergent,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving hers.
“I thought I wasn’t your type. That you preferred older women,” she says, on a whisper.
I shake my head, heat spreading across my skin. “My type is you,” I say, and her blue irises glow with excitement, maybe even a wild kind of happiness.
“You’re my predilection,” she says, a little flirty, and fuck, now I’m even more turned on, and feeling like I can walk on water.
The cab squeals to a stop at the train station, and I thrust some bills through the window. I get out with her.
“I need to catch a train or I’ll be late,” she says, her tone full of longing.
“Come over when you’re back.”
“I get back really late tomorrow.”
“I don’t care how late it is. I want to see you.”
“I want to see you, too.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why did you want me to take you to the train station?”
Her lips quirk up. “Because I fuck seeing you.”
I crack up. “Harper Holiday, I fuck seeing you, too.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and kiss her. This kiss is different. It’s as hot as all of them have ever been, but there’s something intangible in it, too, a quality that digs down deep into my chest, that burrows into my bones. An inevitability, and unlike last night, it doesn’t feel like the end. It feels like a promise of more to come.
She breaks the kiss and turns to go, then she swivels around once more and slides her arm around my waist, tipping up her chin to meet my eyes. “There’s one thing I want in bed that we haven’t done yet.”
“Name it.”
“I’m on the pill,” she says and knocks the wind out of me. I nearly sway on the busy street outside the train station.
“I’m clean. I’ve been tested,” I add, my throat dry. The possibility of feeling her bare is almost too much. I’m not sure how I can function on any level between now and tomorrow night.
“Can we sleep together without a condom when I see you tomorrow?”
I nod. “I’ve never done it without one.”
“I’ll be your first?” Her voice rises with excitement.
“Yes.” I’m dying to tell her that she’s the first in so many things. First woman I’ve ever felt this way about. First woman I’ve ever cared about more than my work. First woman who’s inspired a cartoon just for fun.
She presses one last kiss to my lips, murmuring, “I can’t wait.”
She leaves, and I’m pretty sure the next thirty-six hours will be the longest of my life.
Because . . . bare.
32
I go to the movies with Wyatt that night, checking out a spy flick that numbs my brain with two hours of explosions, knife fights, and one badass motorcycle chase down a never-ending set of stairs.
He doesn’t once ask about Harper or Spencer when we grab beers and burgers after the credits roll. I’m thankful for that, even though I don’t know what to do about my buddy. I’ve got to hope Spencer will understand that the way I feel for his sister isn’t cause for eyebrow-dyeing or hair-shaving.