Denver
“Would you fucking quit it?”
“What?” I say through a mouthful of food.Real attractive, Denny.
“Moaning. It’s annoying.”
I grin. “Bullshit. Annoying is code for getting you all hot and bothered.”
He rolls his eyes and takes another bite of his burger, which tells me my assessment is spot-on.
I stopped at the first burger joint I could find and forced Shep to buy me dinner as I changed into something much more comfortable.
My legs swing back and forth as we sit on the tailgate of his truck—because he wouldn’t let us eat in the cab—as we finish off the last of our meals.
I stuff my face with another handful of fries.
“Hot, Den. Real hot.”
I steal one of his fries just for his remark.
“Adding thief to your resume now, huh? Here.” He hands me his milkshake. “Might as well take this too.”
“You know what, Iwilltake this, but only because you owe me an ice cream.”
“I do?”
“Yes. You stole mine last week—or did you forget already?”
“Huh.” He looks out at the parking lot, grinning. “Must have slipped my mind.”
The lights are illuminating him in a way that makes him look like the god everyone seems to think he is.
Shep in jeans and a tee is hot enough. Shep sitting on the bed of a truck in a tux?
I might as well just throw my panties on the ground right now becauseholy shit.
Watching him work the room tonight was…unexpected. He was kind, polite, patient—basically the exact opposite of the cocky-in-a-not-so-sexy-way Shep I knew throughout college. Tonight, it was almost like he was the Shep I knew before.
The Shep I miss.
But the man he was tonight doesn’t align with who he was last month…which is as confusing as it is concerning.
I’ve been trying to bite my tongue, but there have been so many questions rolling around in my head since we left.
What did that guy mean when he said I’m the one who caused the fight Shep was involved in last month? How would that even be possible? I wasn’t anywhere near that area. Hell, we weren’t even on speaking terms then. I still hated him.
Well, hated him as much as I could.
“Quit staring. It’s rude.”
Caught red-handed, I avert my gaze.
Just ask him.
“You can ask, you know. I’ve been waiting for it all night.”
I sit up straighter, weirded out that he knows what I’m thinking. “Ask what?”
