Page 129 of One Good Crash
I leaned back into him and pressed my cheek against his shirt. "Do you want to come up? Like for a drink or something?"
His grip tightened, and I felt his lips brush against my hair. His voice was quiet. "Yeah. I do." But then, he let go and took a step back. "But I'm not gonna."
Suddenly, the night felt very cold. "Why not?"
"Because you're not thinking straight."
"What do you mean?"
He looked toward his car. "I should go."
It felt like a brush-off.Was it?
And if so, was it any wonder? He'd done so much for me. And all he'd gotten in return was trouble. No wonder he wanted to leave.
I blew out a long, unsteady breath. "Listen, I want to tell you something…"
He held up a hand. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't tell me."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because I know what you're gonna say, and I don't wanna hear it."
I hesitated. "What do you think I'm gonna say?"
I knew whatothergirls would say. They'd be begging him to come upstairs, and not just for drinks.
Even now, I was sorely tempted. And who could blame me? In the dim light of the streetlamp, he looked like every girl's fantasy.
He was tall and strong, with a face to die for. And if that weren't enough, just a few paces away, his pricey car was just another reminder that he was rich beyond all reason.
But these weren't the things that had me longing to see him upstairs. Rather, it was somethinginsidehim – the person he was regardless of where he lived or what he drove. And he'd just come to my rescue yet again.
I hadn't asked him to, but he had.
Now, I owed him. Cripes, evenbeforetonight, I owed him more than I could ever possibly repay.
Desperate to let him know that I wasn't blind to everything he'd done, I looked deep into his eyes and said, "But I owe you—"
"Stop." His expression darkened. "You remember the deal, right?"
"What deal?"
"You were supposed to forget all that."
"Yeah, and I'm trying. I mean, I did." I gave a nervous laugh. "But now I owe you again."
His jaw clenched. "You don't."
"Oh come on," I said. "You're paying for my mom's hotel room."
"Yeah. And I did it for myself, not you. So like I said, forget it."
His words made no sense. I asked, "But why would it be for you?"
