You’ll lose everything and you’ll take her down with you, the voice of reason countered.
He knew it was the truth and the final little push that tipped the balance. For once in his life, he needed to do the right thing. He needed to not be a selfish asshole.
“You’re hot, Luce,” he forced out, voice like rusted steel. Beautiful, exquisite, amazing, funny, sweet. Mine. No, she wasn’t his, which was why he had to say this. “And I won’t lie. I’d love a night between your thighs.” He slid his knuckles down the side of her face. “But, baby girl, that’s all it would ever be. And for all your talk, that’s not you, and we both know it.”
One night wouldn’t be enough for me either.
She flinched. It was small, but he saw. He noticed everything when it came to Lucy.
“Hugh and Joe…they…”
“It has nothing to do with your brothers.” He was lying, of course. They had a lot to do with this, but they weren’t the only reason for putting on the brakes, not by a long shot.
“Why, then?” Her fingers dug into his sides harder and, shit, his knees nearly gave out.
He let his gaze roam her body, forcing a leer. “Sweetheart, you’re too much damn trouble. Why would I go there with you when I can go to any club in this city and find company for the night?”
She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and her lashes dropped, concealing her eyes from him for several seconds. But when they opened again, instead of his cruel words causing hurt, giving her that final push to walk away from him and never look back, her pale eyes shone with determination.
His gut clenched.
“Why did you drag me out of there, Adam? What was that?”
He dropped his arms and stepped back, hating it, instantly mourning her warmth, her softness, her spring blossom, honey scent. “I promised Hugh I’d get you home safe, and that’s what I plan to do.”
The moon was full and bright and her lips shone, either from her lip gloss or from licking them, he wasn’t sure, but it was making him insane to taste and lick, suck and nibble that full, succulent, pouty mouth.
Lucy didn’t look away from him. Her gaze cut through him, assessing, taking his measure. Like a boxer sizing up his opponent before a fight. One hit and he’d be out for the count. He knew it. He just hoped like hell she didn’t strike.
Finally, she dropped her hands and crossed her arms, head tilting to the side slightly, hair sliding over her bare shoulder. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”
He waited a second for the punch line, for her next question, but it never came, and she turned on her heel and climbed into the passenger side.
Adam stood there, taking a minute to get his shit together.
He needed to get out of this city, sooner rather than later. Being around Lucy was too much of a temptation. And if he didn’t put some distance between them right fucking now, he’d break, consequences be damned.
Thank fuck he had the excuse he needed. Tomorrow night he was getting his cousin’s car.
A solo road trip and a few days away to clear his head was exactly what he needed.
~ * ~
Lucy sat beside Adam, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour.
The man was a bad liar, at least when he was lying to her. He was all over the place tonight, one minute pushing her away, the next tugging her close.
I won’t lie. I’d love a night between your thighs, but, baby girl, that’s all it would ever be.
She could admit those words had stung as much as they’d excited her. But they weren’t a surprise. And in some messed up way, it was a relief having him cement what she already knew: Adam Grady did not do relationships.
Old Lucy would have taken advantage of that show of weakness and pounced on the opportunity to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t be that girl anymore. She’d hurt other people. She’d hurt herself.
Yeah, and didn’t you do just a great job of showing everyone how much you’d changed tonight?
Adam pulled up outside the garage, right beside the stairs that led to her apartment.
She had to put this to bed—okay, maybe not the best metaphor—for her own good. Turning to him, she took a fortifying breath—the tequila shots still buzzing through her bloodstream helping a whole lot, giving her courage—and touched his forearm, curling her fingers around his warm skin, coarse hairs tickling her palm, just like she had all those years ago. When he’d done exactly what he had tonight outside the restaurant when she’d gotten too close, lashing out, pushing her away—anything to avoid the feelings he had for her. The lust they both felt for each other.
Suddenly, it all became clear. She hadn’t allowed herself to believe it. Had been afraid to believe it, afraid of how it would affect her. How she would ever get over him, stop wanting him, when she knew he wanted her, too.