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“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I’m curious, Sunshine. And your reaction is making me even more curious,” he says, studying my face. “How long ago was it?”
“A month,” I mutter.
His eyebrows rise. “What happened?”
“It didn’t work out because he was a coward. He had a choice. He could have chosen me, but he didn’t,” I say, feeling my heart break all over again.
Graham places a hand on my cheek, titling my head up so I’m looking into his eyes. “He’s an idiot,” he says reassuringly.
“I know.”
“Did you love him?”
I shake my head. “No, but I almost did.”
Thankfully, I was smart enough to not fall. I know better than anyone how dangerous love can get. How much it can hurt.
Graham nods, brushing a finger over my cheek, “Good girl.”
It’s happening again. My heart starts to race, and when his eyes flicker to my lips, I know I have to step away. At this point, it’s almost like a dance, a push-and-pull kind of thing. I regret stepping away, but I’m scared to find out what would have happened if I hadn’t.
I don’t miss the flicker of disappointment in Graham’s expression.
“Gray, you have to play,” I remind him just so he’ll stop looking at me.
He blinks. “Right.” He grabs the cue stick, staring at the table for a second before looking up at me. “If I win, do I get a reward?”
I bite my bottom lip. There’s no mistaking the suggestive expression on his face.
“What kind of reward?” I ask, feeling a flutter in my chest.
“How about a kiss?” he asks with a challenging glint in his eyes.
Desire swirls in my gut. I blame the whiskey.
“Win first and then we’ll see,” I manage to say, hoping he can’t tell how nervous I am.
He huffs out a breath before leaning and getting into position. I hold my breath as he makes his play. I’m not sure what I want more—for him to lose or for him to win.
I get my answer when he actually does win. He lets out a celebratory whoop before walking over to stand in front of me.
“I won, Sunshine.”
“Yes, I saw.”
“Now can I get that kiss?” he asks, a little eagerly.
I cross my arms over my chest, fighting back a smile. “I don’t think you really deserve it, though. The game was so close, I could have won.”
“But you didn’t,” he presses. “Come on, Isabella, you’re killing me.”
I place my hand on his chest and stare up at him. I can feel his beating heart. It’s racing, almost as much as mine is.
“If I kiss you, will shut you up?”
He nods enthusiastically. “For as long as you want.”
