He laughs. “Definitely not.” This man has to know his smile feels like staring into the sun, dangerous and far too inviting. “But ones who're charming, beautiful...” his calloused fingertips brush the back of my hand, and I pray he doesn't notice the shiver that crawls through me in response, “and fully willing to throw hands with some rich prick? I don't claim to be a smart man, but even I'm not stupid enough to let someone like that slip by.”
“Well...” It’s the only word I can muster through my surprise.
His eyes narrow, reading me far too easily. “You expected a shitty answer.”
“No,” I say far too quickly for it to be anything but a lie.
“Yes, you did.” He pulls his hand back until just our fingertips touch. My stomach drops, and I fight the urge to reach for him. “If you wanted an out, you don't need?—”
“I don't.” I blurt. “I—”Am a disaster human and I don't know how to do this anymore and you're gorgeous and kind and I think I'm beginning to understand Icarus way more than I'm comfortable with and—“I have a tendency to run from anything that has even the whiff of being too good about it.”
Honest. Not quite the full chaos in my skull, but still far more honest than I'd intended. I catch my bottom lip in my teeth, physically keeping myself from digging the hole deeper.
Cillian's expression softens. I bite harder. “We have that in common.” He reaches across the table, his thumb gently freeing my lip.
It's a small thing. A quick, intimate gesture. It shouldn't matter. Yet I feel undone.
With the immaculate timing gifted to all service industry professionals, our server interrupts the moment. “Anything else for you guys?”
I should be grateful, but I'm not.
Pulling willpower from a reserve I didn’t know I had, Ishake my head and manage to extricate my hand completely from Cillian’s.
“I'll take the check,” Cillian says, eyes pinning me in place. He looks at the server to thank him, giving me a moment to finally pull in a shaky breath.
“I can pa?—”
He cuts me off, “I asked you to dinner, so I'm paying. If you ask next time, you're welcome to get the check then.”
Next time. There wouldn't be a next time. That fact doesn't stop the flutter in my gut at imagining what a next time could be.
Once outside, my stomach drops. I don't want this to end. It needs to. It has to.
Right?
“Can I give you a ride?” Cillian asks.
The hedonistic devil on my shoulder screams,God, yes, please. Your face seems like an excellent option.I'd like to say there’s an opposing response, but my better angels gave up on me years ago.
He positions himself at a friendly distance, hands in his pockets. Close enough that I could reach out and touch the broad expanse of his chest, but far enough not to crowd me.
“I don't...”Live far. That’s what I had every intention of saying. Instead, I blurt, “I don't want to go home.”
Pretty had rarely made me stupid, and when it did, a man had not been the cause. Yet here I am, experiencing a full loss of every ounce of sense I possess.
What the hell is wrong with me?
But dammit if he doesn’t look pleasantly surprised.
“We could get another drink?” he suggests.
“Do you want that?” Another drink doesn’t sound bad. More than anything, I just don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet.
“No.” He shakes his head, huffing a littlelaugh.
I take a step toward him. “What do you want?”
He sucks in a breath, studying me. Being the focus of his attention sets my nerves on edge with delicious anticipation.
