Page 71 of Revelry
I stared at him before turning my gaze around the store. The large windows flooded the space with plenty of natural lighting. The white Formica countertop that ran along the back in front of a private office. I ducked around Tate and headed into the office just to check everything was okay and saw it also had a small kitchen attached to it.
“That’s pretty cool,” Tate said, crowding behind me and peering into the kitchen.
“Do you mind?” I nudged him back, my elbow digging into his solid stomach. “When did you get so nosy?”
“Oof,” he grunted, rubbing the spot I’d hit, and his shirt clung to the ridges of his six-pack. My mind flashed back to the other night, and I wondered if he’d been naked when he touched himself. I pictured his muscles contracting as he thrust into his hand and…
God, could I think about anything other than sex? When did I become such a pervert?
“I just wanted to see how much more space they had over here compared to me. I prefer my layout, much simpler. But this would be a good space for a coffee shop or, say, an ice cream parlor…something like that...” He gave me a knowing smirk, and I rolled my eyes before dragging him out.
I checked the rest of the space, thinking the window seat would be a great place to put some cushions for people to have an ice cream sundae and watch the world go by. I blinked at the thought and shoved it away before stepping outside and locking up again.
“So, when’s the next adventure?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Since when are you so keen to hang out?”
He shrugged. “I told you. I’m having fun with you.” His expression was clear and sincere, and I was pleased that he actually enjoyed the time we spent together. I did too.
“Fine, Friday night. Let’s get pizza.”
“Pizza?” His nose wrinkled adorably. “That doesn’t sound very adventurous.”
“Trust me, Tate. Have I steered you wrong so far?”
He peered at me, a small smile flirting with his lips. “No, you haven’t.”
*
That Friday night, I looked at myself in the hallway mirror and decided I looked acceptable for a non-date outing with Tate.
Other than telling him what time to be ready, I hadn’t spoken to him since we bumped into each other the other day. I’d taken to showering at the ranch so I wouldn’t be wet and naked around him anymore as my willpower was non-existent after our littlefunthe other night.
I hadn’t gotten him out of my mind once. I was going crazy, replaying everything about our phone call. The breathy rough rasps he made, the confident way he told me what to do and the ease with which he brought me to ruin scared me.
I wanted more.
But I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to get tangled up with someone who didn’t want to get entangled. Tate was very clear about not wanting to get close to someone or have a family and I figured that extended to having a romantic partner too.
Sure, friends with benefits was a thing, but I knew myself. I would get attached.
Deep down, as much as I pretended I was fine, I just wanted to be loved, desperately. And I didn’t think that kind of love was out there for me so I wasn’t going to waste my life being disappointed.
I also didn’t flatter myself that he evenwantedto sleep with me. I knew how guys worked, sometimes they just needed a release. Which was why I’d since been careful to be extra quiet with my nighttime activities. I replayed every word that fell from his lips during our call and every time I had a toe-curling, mind-numbing orgasm.
I wasn’t sure I could look him in the eye without blushing considering the amount of times he’d made me come without knowing it.
There was a knock at the door. I smoothed my hand over my denim dress and pushed out a breath before opening it. Tate was standing on the other side, his expression pensive, his dark hair swept back off his forehead and he’d left his glasses at home for the night. He looked like the sexiest lumberjack I’d ever seen in his red checkered shirt, black jeans and boots. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing muscled forearms and long tapered fingers that I imagined could work wonders.
“You look nice,” I breathed, willing my pounding pulse to calm.
He frowned at me, eyes giving me the once over before clenching his jaw. “You too.”
I pulled on my lilac cowgirl boots and grabbed my purse before stepping out. Tate didn’t step back so I just bumped into the rock-hard wall of his chest.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning awkwardly.
I shook myself, wanting to get rid of this weird funk we’d slipped into.
