I swallowed hard as I drank in the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"
With something between a scoff and a laugh, she replied, "Now that's a funny question."
Just seeing her was a balm to my soul, and I stopped to savor it before asking, "Why?"
"Because it's my shop." Her mouth quirked at the corners. "So, if anything, I should turn the question on you."
And yet, she didn't.
It was a good thing, because I wasn't ready to answer. Looking to change the subject, I asked, "So you're working late?"
As soon as I asked it, I felt like a fool – because everyone knows you do your best bike repair in the dark. I shut my mouthand lowered the beam of the flashlight, pointing it downward to keep from blinding her.
But even in shadows, the sight of her sitting there, soft and sweet, tugged at me in ways I didn't like to name.
Maisie, being Maisie, was too nice to point out just how dumb I'd sounded.Working late. In the dark. Yeah, right.
Instead, she said with a tentative smile, "I wanted to talk."
Suddenly, breathing wasn't so easy. Seeing her now, I wanted to do more than talk. I wanted to gather her close and nuzzle her neck. I wanted to feel her melt into my arms like she used to. I wanted to kiss her senseless and feel her kissing me back.
And hey, while I was at it, I wanted to press her up against the wall and make both of us forget the shittiness of the last few days.
From the look on Maisie's face, her thoughts weren't so different.
I would've moved forward then and there, but a lot of this wasn't adding up. If I wanted to be a dick, I'd start by giving her grief for sitting here alone after hours.
Just the thought of it made my stomach twist.I wasn't the only one who might've come through that door.
With an effort, I shoved those thoughts aside and asked, "Then why didn't you call?"
As for myself, I'd been on the verge of calling her at least a hundred times, maybe more. But I hadn't – not because I hadn't wanted to, but because I didn't know what to say.
She replied, "Because I wanted to talk in person. And before you ask, Ididgo to your place first."
My place?The shithole?Nowthatsurprised me. "When?"
"Around eight. But you weren't there." She rubbed her arms like the memory gave her a chill. "I waited on the steps for maybe an hour, hoping you'd show, but well…you never did."
Shit.The thought of her waitingthere– with its questionable hygiene and rickety stairs – wasn't sitting so great in my gut.
Yeah, it made no sense, considering that her disgust with the place had been the wedge that drove us apart. But that was something to think about later, when I wasn't lost in her eyes.
Somehow, I managed to say, "So you camehere?"
"Yeah." She hesitated. "You're not angry, are you? I mean…I guess this might feel like a little bit like an ambush."
Even if it was, I didn't have the right to be angry. "Hey, it'syourplace." But then, I couldn't stop myself from adding, "But you shouldn't be here alone, especially at night."
"I'm not alone," she said with the hint of a smile. "You'rehere."
It was a pretty thought, but way too naïve. "Yeah, but what if it wasn't me?"
Her smile faded. "But you're the only one with a key."
As she said it, it belatedly struck me that she hadn't asked whatIwas doing here. This could only mean one thing.She'd been expecting me all along.
Thatwasthe meaning of ambush, wasn't it?
