Page 23 of Hard to Resist

“Old, but not old enough. It just made it creepier, especially with all the chest hair.” I give her a fake shiver.

“Yikes. I once saw a lady pull out a whole seafood boil in a plastic bag and start slurping it down. It was the middle of summer, and the humidity did no one any favors.”

“That’s rough.”

“You have no idea.”

“I think my favorite, though, is during the holidays when there is that massive Santa bar crawl and the trains are just full of drunk Santas. They still do that, right?”

“Yeah, they do. Although, I try to avoid riding late that night. Drunk Santas can get real creepy real quick.” She turns to face me. “I’m surprised you take the subway.”

“Why?”

“You seemed pretty against it the other night.”

“That was a safety thing, not an anti-subway thing.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not that bad at night.”

“Verity.”

“Cullen,” she mocks back.

She’s so damn cute when she gets all playful. It makes me want to hold her closer, makes me want to kiss those plush, smirking lips.

She notices me staring, a pinkish hue tinting the apples of her cheeks. I don’t look away, though; I keep her trapped in my gaze. Her tongue pokes out briefly, licking her bottom lip, and I know her mind is in step with my own.

A car speeds past us, honking, which causes a chain reaction of beeping around us.

Verity whips her head forward and takes a desperate chug of coffee.

I stare at the taxi and silently curse its entire existence.

It seems like every single time I have her nibbling the bait on the end of my hook, something crashes into the water and scares her away.

Verity’s steps slow as we pass a boutique flower shop on the corner, and she stares at the different arrangements in the window.

“Snapdragons are my favorite flowers, closely followed by roses and lilies.”

“In other words, I picked well, but I could’ve picked better.”

She laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone give out bouquets of snapdragons.”

“There’s always a first.” I make a mental note to look into it.

“Fair. But the roses you got me were gorgeous.”

“Can’t go wrong with a classic.”

“Did you know red’s my favorite color? Blue is a close second, but I’m starting to get a little PTSD from looking at a million shades of it for this project I’m working on.”

“Actually, yes. I planned that accordingly. I know you love the color red and are going through an anti-blue phase. It was absolutely not a complete fluke.”

“Oh, really? And how’d you know that?” she teases.

“Obviously, it’s because I stalked you.”

She lets out a mock gasp. “Is that how you know where I live? You stalked me? I can’t believe I got it wrong. I was worried about you murdering me in the alley when I should’ve asked if you were a stalker. Classic misstep.”

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