Page 8

“What if I can’t? What if I don’t wa-want any of that?” Again, my words so did not match what my insides were screaming at me to do. To jump him, then hold on for dear life. But my confidence had fled; still not sure I wasn’t having a fever dream.

“Then I’ll walk away. And you’ll never know.” Ross’s smile had turned wistful, but he didn’t move. Still in touching distance. And never have I wanted to touch him more urgently than I did right now.

“Know what?” Did I actually expect him to answer? Did I want to know the answer?

His gaze burned into me. His gaze danced between my eyes and lips, but he remained still, silent. It was torture, and yet I doubted that more than a minute had passed.

“Ross?” I pleaded softly.

The lines around his full lips softened, and he released a long breath. “How, despite being my best friend’s sister, I’ve wanted you beyond reason. And in my juvenile mind, the best way, the only way to keep my hands off you was to make you hate me.”

Damn it, I hated being right. He did like me in school. “Wow. Just. Wow.” Throwing up my hands, I needed to think. This was all too much. So I paced. Then, I came back to stand inches away. Toe to toe. My heart thundered in my ears. I fisted my hands on my hips to keep from pounding on his chest.

Then, I said the first thing I could think of to put him in his place.

“Just so you know, I haven’t been pining away for you all these years. I’ve had boyfriends. And sex. Good sex.” Immediate regret slammed into me, and I felt hot all over and not in the fun way.

“I never expected you wouldn’t. You deserve that and more. But…I’m back. And I’m going to do my best and maybe my worst to ruin you for any other guy. Because I plan on being the last man in your bed.”

My mouth dropped open, and I may have blacked out for a couple seconds. The nerve of him! But before I could form words strong enough to let him know his confession wouldn’t make up for years of hurt, he continued speaking, and I all I could do was hold myself rigid to keep from either laughing in his face or launching myself into his arms.

“And it won’t just be good. It’ll wreck you. It’ll wreck both of us. That I promise.”

His declaration did the impossible. It chipped away at my resolve to block the vision of us together that I’d been fighting since he walked into my studio. Bringing me coffee on a cold and windy day.

Naked.

In bed.

Bodies writhing.

Hands, lips, and body parts straining. The shock of it sent a warmth curling low in my belly before pooling between my thighs. The need had me squeezing my legs together. Please don’t let him notice.

Did he realize he’d just sucked all the air from the room? From my lungs? And dammit if I didn’t want to believe him. He’d stopped talking and was back to staring, an ever so slight grin on his gorgeous face, a knowing look in his eyes.

A look that said, “I see you thinking, picturing us together.” Is this how it was going to be every time I saw him now? Now that he’d confessed. Now that I wouldn’t be able to not visualize us together.

Stupid brain. I couldn’t let him do this. Come back into my life, confess his past sins, then promise me paradise in his arms. His wonderfully sculpted, muscled arms, broad chest, wide shoulders... and oh, gah!

And then he dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine, feather soft and all too briefly. That was it, just his lips, no hands or other body parts made contact. But it was enough. More than enough that my lower belly did somersaults, my toes curled, and the heat that had settled between my thighs blazed hotter.

And then the impossible bloomed within my chest as I stared into his dark as sin eyes; I felt the beginning of forgiveness.

“Enjoy your coffee, Hannah. And be careful driving home. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Ross stepped back, turned and headed for the door.

Silently laughing and staring at the spot where he’d just been, I dragged in gulps of air as I marveled at his bravado. My hands and body shook from shock as I whirled around to follow him. His promise of being wrecked, the kiss, his words, all of it played on repeat in my head.

Catching up to him just as he opened the door, I sputtered, “But, but...wait. You don’t even have my phone number.” Was that my voice? Jeez, I sounded like a wailing cat caught in a downpour or a woman overcome by emotion, and yeah, a hint of lust.

“That’s okay. Here’s mine.” His gaze loaded with more unspoken promises, he handed me a small, folded piece of paper. Old school style as if we were teenagers passing notes in class.

“You can call me.” Ross’s words, laced in confidence, had a hypnotic effect as I accepted the paper. In a daze, I opened it to see his number written in precise strokes, underlined twice. Like a dare.

“Oh, and by the way, you didn’t say no.”

Still staring at my hand, I was confused by his statement. Lifting my gaze back to his, I weakly repeated his words, “Wait. I didn’t say no?” Right. I didn’t say no.

“Tomorrow, Hannah.” And with that, he tucked his chin into his jacket and disappeared into the swirling snow.