Page 83 of Crazy Thing

“I can’t do that,” she says apologetically.

I drop my forehead to hers, feeling guilty for even asking. I know how important her business is to her. It’s actually one of the things I like about her.

“Right. Sorry. I know. I just…I just don’t want to let you go yet.” I kiss the tip of her upturned nose. “I had a great time last night, and this morning, too. I like hanging out with you. I don’t want our date to end.”

Ziggy smirks, shrugging a shoulder. “Can’t relate.”

“Ziggy…” I smack her ass, not caring that we’re in public.

She hurls out a laugh. “Fine. I had a great time with you, too. I wish we could make it last longer.”

Grinning, I lean down and cover her lips with mine.

I’m lost in our kiss when Ziggy pulls back, her eyes all lit up. “I have a proposition.”

“A proposition?” My brows dip with suspicion. “I don’t like how that sounds.”

She props a hand on her hip. “Come on, Money Man. Aren’t you used to negotiating? I thought you were a big shot business man.”

I grunt. She’s playing to my ego and I know it. Butdammit, it’s working. “Go ahead. Hit me with your proposition.”

She runs her tiny palms down my chest. “Come to my shop with me. It’s only fair. I go to your place of work everyday. Today, come to mine.” She steps close to me, leaning up against my chest, batting those long eyelashes.

How could I ever say no to that pretty face?

I find myself grinning and playfully shaking her hand. “Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal, Ms. Beaumont.”

34

ZIGGY

Despite all his protests and his arguments about gas mileage, we end up driving my bus to Honey Hill. To compromise, I let Darius control the radio.

That ends up being a huge mistake.

“If you seriously like this song, I don’t think we can be friends,” I murmur, sitting behind the wheel as we exit the highway and head toward my shop.

He only laughs, turning the volume up louder from the custom passenger seat that’s installed next to me. “Oh? We’re friends now, huh? Well, friends teach friends good music.”

“I think you’ve got it wrong. It should be friends don’t torture friends with their awful taste in music,” I retort.

With an unfailing grin on his face, Darius switches the song. “Okay, now this is a classic. You’ve got to appreciate this one.”

I blink, slowly nodding my head. “Oh, this one is actually good.” It’s an old song that was popular during our high school days.

He gasps in mock surprise. “You actually like this song?! Look at that, Fairy Girl. We do have a thing or two in common. There’s hope for us yet,” he teases.

I’m laughing on the outside but internally, my chest aches. Is there hope for us? Really? I want so bad for that to be true. But aren’t we too different? Would Darius even want me beyond this moment? Or will we go back to the way things used to be once this magical weekend is over?

Everything is up in the air, including my heart. And I’m terrified that it will shatter when I wake up from this dream and it inevitably hits the ground.

But Darius doesn’t seem to be worried about a thing. He’s just grinning and flirting and poking fun at me as I drive.

I try to stay present in the moment, laughing at his uncharacteristically goofy antics, when Darius suddenly points out the window. “Uh, didn’t you see that stop sign back there?” he asks, eyes wide.

I shrug. “Meh. That one’s optional.”

“Optional?!” He blinks.

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