Page 36 of Falling for the Bad Boy
She lifted her head. Her gaze met mine. A hint of vulnerability shone in the depths of her eyes. “I’m not used to getting involved with people I can’t get away from.”
The words hung between us. I wasn’t sure how to react without pissing her off or scaring her away. “Well, we’re not exactly involved. And it looks like I’ll be headed home in another month, so you don’t need to worry about having to get away from me.”
Her shoulders drooped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How do you mean it, Trinity?" Trying to keep up with her mood swings felt like watching a ping pong match. "You drag me on what I think is a date only to end up at your parents’ house. Then show up at my place last night after making it pretty clear you’re not looking for any kind of involvement. And then?—”
“I know what happened next”—she put her hand up to silence me—“I was there, remember?”
I took a step closer. “Yeah, I remember.” I couldn’t get it out of my head: the way she arched into me, the way her skin felt under my palm, the way she bit her lip as she’d come undone.
“I’m sorry. Maybe we should start over. Forget about last night and focus on just being friends.” Her eyes sparkled as she thrust her hand at me. “Hi, I’m Trinity.”
“You really think that’s going to change things?” I glanced toward my shoes, shaking my head.
“What have we got to lose? I could use a friendly neighbor.”
Neighbors. Sure, I could do the neighbor thing. Or at least give it a shot. “Fine. Hi, Trinity. I’m fucked.”
“At least try.” She gave me a playful poke in the stomach.
I grabbed her hand in mine. The same electric pulse thrummed between us. “Nice to meet you, neighbor.”
“That’s not so bad, is it?” A tentative smile turned the corners of her mouth up.
Not so bad at all. Maybe a friendly neighbor was just what I needed. If she didn’t want to explore anything more, that would make my life a hell of a lot easier.
As I slid my hand away from hers, I glanced around. “So what are you working on?”
She reached for the notebook. “Trying to come up with a name for the place. Want to help?”
“Creativity isn’t really my thing. Unless I’m coming up with a new drink. What do you have so far?” I peered over her shoulder at the curvy script scrawled across the page.
“The Artists’ Haven.”
“Not bad. Kind of safe though, don’t you think?”
She turned to face me. “Safe? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean it’s kind of vanilla. And you… hell, you’re anything but vanilla.” My gaze raked over her.
Her cheeks took on a tinge of pink. “So help me come up with something a little more daring?”
Pacing across the worn wooden planks, I rubbed my hand over my chin. “What kind of art are you going to feature?”
“Everything. I’m open to just about anything.”
“So no limits?”
She cocked her head and lowered her lids. Damn if that look didn’t make me think about just how open she’d been last night. A spark of desire ignited in my gut. Not going to go there anymore. I moved across the room, farther away from where she still stood at the bar.
“I like it. No Limits Gallery. Or even just No Limits and leave it open ended.” Nodding, she scribbled something in her notebook.
“Is that the one?” I asked.
“Yeah, I think it is. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’d better get back home. I’ve got some work to finish up.” I moved toward the door.
