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“There’s no time like the present,” I said, my hands roaming to her hips.
With a soft laugh, she shook her head. “With the way I’m feeling right now, if we go to bed, neither of us will make it to dinner.”
I groaned, frustration mixed with desire. “You had to tell me that?”
“Go see your brother,” she said, her tone firm but playful. “But be ready for tonight.”
“I’m always ready,” I replied, my voice low.
“Go!” she said with a laugh. “Before I change my mind.”
The words I love you hovered on my lips, but I held them back. The conversation we’d had earlier seemed like enough for now. Instead, I pressed my lips against her neck, sucking gently, my hands cupping her breasts before I reluctantly pulled away.
She looked at me with a smirk. “Jerk. Now I need a cold shower or something.”
“I can help with that,” I offered, my voice tinged with mischief.
“Not now,” she said, pushing me away playfully. “Go have your dinner.”
I hesitated. “Should I meet you at your place later?”
“Text me,” she replied. “I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”
“What restaurant are you going to?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
She shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “I have no idea.”
“Have no idea, or you don’t want to tell me?”
“We’re not attached at the hip,” she said, her tone light but firm. “Spend the evening with your brother. We’ll touch base later.”
I gave her a quick pat on the ass before turning toward the door. Despite the tension between us, a part of me felt reassured. This was my apartment, but leaving Erika here alone didn’t worry me as much as it might have. I knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. As I walked out, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our relationship was evolving in ways I hadn’t expected, but I was ready to see where it would lead.
CHAPTER 12
Lincoln
Islapped Michael on the back, pulling him into a tight hug. His once short chestnut hair had grown shaggy and now brushed the collar of his navy suit. We were seated at Savoureax, a trendy spot owned by chef Sawyer Walsh, but tonight, the culinary delights were secondary. I was here to reconnect with my brother after an absence that felt like an eternity.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said, releasing him from the embrace.
“Likewise,” Michael replied, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I can hardly wrap my head around the past week.”
The hostess led us to our table, a secluded spot in the back that promised a quieter experience despite the restaurant’s lively atmosphere. As we settled into the brown leather chairs, I noticed Michael had lost some weight. Yet, under his jacket, his back felt firm, the lean muscles a testament to the trials he’d endured.
Our drinks arrived: a scotch on the rocks for me, and a glass of red wine for Michael. I studied him carefully, searching for any trace of the man who had been missing for so long.
“No hard stuff for you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Michael shook his head. “I didn’t drink much after...”
I cut him off. “I still can’t believe you’re back. I thought you were dead.”
Michael’s face twisted with regret. “I’m sorry I put everyone through so much.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s her fault,” I said, my voice laced with bitterness.
“Don’t say that,” he snapped back, his eyes darkening. “I still love her.”
