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Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she looked like she couldn’t get out of his place fast enough, which seemed in direct contrast to her restless hands, her hitched breath, her flushed cheeks, all indicating her physical interest, if nothing more. “No, sorry.”
“How about tomorrow?” Because now that he’d put it out there, unless she told him to rein it in or fuck off, he had to see her again, see if the chemistry between them could develop into something deeper. He was a persistent bastard when he knew what he wanted.
“I thought you agreed for me to refer you on.” A crease of confusion crinkled her brow, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
Fuck. He wanted to slide his palm around her waist and draw her to him. “I did. I want to invite you over for a proper catch up…not therapy.”
“But you don’t even like me.” The furrow in her forehead deepened.
“I like you just fine. Always have.”
“Really?” She glanced up, her vulnerable expression full of surprise, disbelief.
“Yeah.” His gaze dipped to her mouth, then back to her beautiful eyes.
She licked her tempting lips, and he dragged in a control-yourself breath. Don’t push it, dude. If anything happened between them, they both had to consent. No ambiguity. No primitive need. No emotionally fucked-up driver. No misunderstanding. Complete, one-hundred-percent commitment to exploring each other without any other agenda.
She pulled away from the simmering heat between them, leaving a cold, wide chasm. “I need to go.”
“Do you? You sure?”
“Yes.” She stared at her fidgety fingers, her breathing loud and labored.
“Until tomorrow, then?” Because, yeah, he needed her to know he wanted to see her again. ASAP.
Her exquisite eyes focused on his and she gave him a twitchy-lipped smile. “I’ll have to see, depending on work. If I can make it, um…same time?”
“Any time.”
She laughed, and it came out all breathy and nervous.
“But you have to promise to stay for dinner.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation.”
She didn’t respond straight away, as though he’d thrown her a curveball, a mathematical problem requiring a research-whiz university professor to answer. “I’ll let you know by five p.m. whether I can come, if that’s okay.”
Oh, making her come was more than okay. Unfortunately, she didn’t mean it in that way. Her noncommittal response wasn’t quite the answer he’d wanted, but at least she hadn’t given him a definite no.
Yes! He tried to remain unaffected on the outside. “Sure.”
“And I’ll give you any referral updates.”
“No worries.”
She slipped past him and opened the door. “Text you tomorrow,” she said, and raced toward her car.
Chapter Three
Sage dropped into the driver’s seat and tried to gain some control over her overpowering emotions. That had been…interesting, intense, arousing. Different to what she’d expected, not that she knew how he’d be, how she’d respond. If she’d known Alexander better, she might have understood his decision-making then and now.
She drove home in a blur of mixed feelings, beelined straight to her bedroom and fell backward onto the mattress. Alexander said he liked her, had always liked her. And until today his actions had shown the exact opposite.
Had his unfriendly behavior been because of Chase?
Had he been concerned about the impact on his relationship with her and his best mate?
