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All I could smell was him.
All I could see was him.
All I could feel … was him.
And what that was doing to my insides was making every part of me tremble.
How could a man I barely knew make me feel this way?
How could he have this much power?
As if on cue, there was a vibration in my apron, notifying me a message had come through my phone.
I didn’t have to look.
I knew who it was from.
And every feeling, every desire I had for the man in front of me, was dissolved, as though acid had been poured over it.
“I want to see you again.”
I swallowed the bitterness down my throat as the whys began to fill my head.
These were different from the ones from earlier.
Why does he want more from me?
Why does he think I can give him that?
His hand landed on my waist, his thumb flicking just above my belt, over my polo, so through the thin material, I could feel the heat from his skin.
It didn’t feel like a touch.
It felt like an explosion.
One that would leave a permanent mark.
“Give me your number, Lily, so I can make that happen.”
I hated myself for the thoughts in my head.
For the war.
For the whys.
I didn’t trust my voice or what could possibly come out of my throat, so I rattled off the digits, watching him plug the number into his phone, saying not a word more, and when he read it back to me, I smiled.
A grin that hurt.
One that felt so ungenuine.
“I’ll be in touch.” His fingers squeezed me, and then he was gone.
THIRTEEN
Brady
My phone was haunting me. The sight of the screen was like a goddamn flashing neon sign that reminded me of two things.
