Page 56 of Sure Shot
Damn him. It’s the best kind of kiss—breath-stealing and frustrating in a hundred wonderful ways.I can’t stay away from you, he’d said.I don’t even want to try.
We have that in common, then. Because I’m clinging to his shirt now and kissing him back.
Until someone clears his throat. Loudly.
We try to break apart, but it takes a moment, because neither of us is ready. Tank’s kisses have melted my brain. And it’s not like I really want to step back and squint at Eric, who is standing on the sidewalk looking amused.
“Eric…” I try. Words fail me. Some boss I am.
He waves a hand like I shouldn’t bother. “I get it. Cone of silence. Your employee of the month already spotted you guys in a taxi together after Nate and Becca’s party. You’re not that stealthy. But Castro and Silas are inside wondering why you stormed out looking mad. So I promised I’d check on you.”
Eric knew? For some reason that makes my face redden even more. “Thank you. I, uh, don’t really date players.”
“Except one,” Tank says unhelpfully. Then he laughs.
“One mistake in nine years,” I correct.
“At this point does it really still count as one?” he asks.
I just sigh.
“You kids figure it out,” Eric says, turning back toward the corner of the building.
“Bess,” Tank asks. “Will you let Eric represent me?”
Eric pauses to hear my answer.
“Yes.” I sigh. “Sure. It’s the right idea.” Because my way was never going to work.
Someday Tank is going to break my heart, and if Eric is his agent, I won’t have to sit across a conference room table and discuss contract clauses and pretend I’m not dying inside. He’ll be Eric’s problem instead. And I’ll still get a cut.
“Awesome!” Tank pumps his fist. “I’m your second client after Baby Bayer, right?”
“Depends who signs first—you or the kid from Saskatchewan.” Eric winks. “I’m gonna go finish my wine now, and also invent some reason why you two need to stand out here in a vacant lot.” He’s gone a second later.
Tank chuckles. “See? He doesn’t care that we were just trying to eat each other’s faces.”
“I noticed that.”
“Then why do you still sound grumpy?” Tank’s eyes are twinkling.
“It’s just a habit at this point.” I can hear my five-year plan weeping. Spending time with Tank means forcing myself not to think about the future.
He leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth. “We have fun, Bess. Let’s go home and have some more of it together. It doesn’t have to be a life-changing kind of thing.”
“Right,” I whisper, looking into his clear green eyes.That’s the whole problem. “I like your brand of fun.”But please don’t break my heart.
“My place or yours,” he whispers. “We’re going on a road trip tomorrow. I’m gonna need some quality time with you first.”
“Yours,” I say, still irritated at myself. My Tank moratorium lasted all of two days.
He takes my hand, threading our fingers. “Any reason we can’t go now? Anyone you need to say goodbye to?”
“No.” I shake my head. The press of his palm against mine makes me unreasonably happy.
“Let’s get ice cream on the pier. It’s on the way.”
I follow him toward the water, pretending for a little while that fairytales are real.
