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“Hey,” a soft voice says from behind me. I turn around to see Maya walking towards me.
Fucking great.
She claims the seat next to me and pulls her knees to her chest, tucking them under her coat—which is about three sizes too big for her, so it must be Ezra’s.
“What?” she says when she catches me staring.
“You look… cute.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cringe. Did I really just fucking say that?
She laughs, and the only way I can describe it is to say it’s the most pleasant sound I’ve heard in a long time.
“You think I’m cute?” Her smile is wide and bright.
I look away into the darkening sky, trying to count as many colors as I can, but all I see is her.
Not trusting myself to say anything else, I just shrug.
She sighs and looks at the sky, too. “Can I ask you something?”
“Would it matter if I said no?”
She shakes her head; I sigh and motion to her to continue.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
The question hits deeper than I care to admit.
“I don’t hate you,” I grumble, taking out my lighter and pressing the button. I flick my index finger through the small flame, not feeling anything.
Maya watches me for a moment and doesn’t say anything. We sit in silence for a while, stealing glances when we think the other isn’t looking. I can’t remember the last time I was able to sit this comfortably with a woman.
Finally, Maya stands up and stretches. I think she’s going to leave me alone, but then she says, “if you don’t hate me, prove it.”
I’m so surprised by her words that I nearly drop the damn lighter. “What?”
The corner of her mouth curls up in a mischievous grin. “You heard me. Prove to me that you don’t hate me.”
I stand up quickly and get in her face, so close that I could kiss her if I want to.
I do want to. So fucking bad.
“I don’t have to prove anything to you, little girl,” I growl.
Her deep brown eyes are molten with desire, and when they train on my lips, I have to contain the need to wrap my hands around her throat and fuck her into the pool chair.
“Get out of my way,” I warn, but make no attempt to walk around her. I’ll give her a chance to leave, and if she doesn’t—she’s mine.
She presses herself against me until there’s no more space between us. I fight to keep my eyes open when her scent fills the air between us, sweet and spicy, like vanilla and cinnamon.
“Or what?” she challenges.
That’s it. That’s all it takes.
I throw her over my shoulder and carry her into the house. She squeals in delight, but I smack her tight little ass to shut her up.
“You want Ezra to come down here and freak out again?” I ask her.
