Page 43 of Wild Devotion
“What do you normally do for fun? Besides taking women to candlelit restaurants and pretending it’s not a date?”
I let my grin spread. “This isn’t a date. You said so yourself.”
“Answer the question.”
“Skateboarding. Horror movies with reluctant cousins. Stalking beautiful women through kitchen windows.” I held her gaze. “The usual.”
She shook her head, but the smile she was fighting was winning. “You’re impossible.”
“You like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” I leaned forward, bracing my arms on the table. “Your turn’s over, by the way.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It is now. So tell me something real. Something you haven’t told anyone else.”
Her smile faded, the mask she wore for the rest of the world slipping.
“Cal.” That name was like fucking butter in her mouth. Every time she said it, something in me shifted and settled. Like the name had been waiting for her voice to make it real.
Cal wasn’t the kid who’d been sick. Cal wasn’t the dropout or the youngest brother or anyone’s charity case. Cal was who I became in her presence—sharper, steadier, certain of exactly one thing.
Her.
“Can we talk about you instead?” she asked. “I feel like I’ve been doing all the sharing.”
“No. I need to hear what’s making you blush and hide behind your hair.”
She dropped her hands from where they’d been fussing with her curls and pinned me with a stare. “Most men aren’t like you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re a good guy. Genuinely good. And I haven’t met many.” Her eyes dropped to my mouth, and her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. “At least, none who’ve kissed me the way you did.”
My blood heated, and I leaned closer. “Did you like the way I kissed you, Zadie?”
She swayed toward me. The candlelight danced across her face and for a second, the restaurant, the other diners, the music, all ceased to exist.
“You know I did.” The words were barely a whisper, but they roared through me, setting my body on fire.
I reached across the table and took her hand. Her fingers were cool and slim, and they curled around mine like they’d been waiting for the invitation.
I turned her hand over in mine, tracing the line of her palm with my thumb. “Good.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zadie
The crescent moon hung low over the trees as we walked through the park, our hands still tangled together.
We’d barely stopped talking all night. The questions had been abandoned somewhere around dessert, replaced with natural, easy conversation. Banter punctuated with looks that went way beyond friendly, and touches that lingered longer than they should have.
It wasn’t a date. But it was perfect.
Too perfect.
