Page 25 of Honey, Honey
Yes, he wants to talk to you about the lies you told, my tipsy brain yelled at me. Not spank you, or have sex.
“Right, right,” I whispered, giving my head a gentle rap. How had I already forgotten about that? All it had taken was half a memory of Law touching me and my body was ready to go. I blew out a deep breath and approached the door. I hesitantly put my hand on the knob and took another deep inhale. I could do this. I could talk to a man that I was lusting after, a man that had fueled more than one of my solo fantasies, and keep it together. I would not make a fool of myself and jump him. I would be friendly and courteous and the talk we’d have would be good. Maybe I’d end up with a new friend on top of it.
I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door. It took half a second and one foot outside the room for me to remember one very important fucking thing.
“You’re not.”
He’d said those words. The one that I had to watch was the man sitting at my kitchen counter and watching me like I was his prey. He’d told me I wasn’t safe with him.
“Hey,” I greeted softly and padded slowly into the room. I cleared my throat and gestured at the sofa beside me. “Do you wanna sit here?”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m good here.” His body was back to being rigid again and his eyes were slowly sweeping over my body from head-to-toe, like he was assessing me for damage. Cataloguing everything meticulously in his memory like he had when he’d entered my apartment. I couldn’t think of why he would need that information for later.
“Yeah, okay.” I sat down on the couch and turned my body so that I was facing him. “So, about the lie…” I began, my voice trailing off when I saw that he was frowning. He frowned a lot.
I wish he didn’t.
“Yes, about that,” he said, voice husky. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on the stool slightly, body pitched forward enough that his elbows were resting on his thighs as he spoke. “What does your friend think?”
I blinked at him. “What? My friend?”
“Yes, your friend from dinner. Tiffany? What does she think is going on between us?”
I nodded, licking my lips and feeling stupid because of course, Tiffany. We had just seen her all of twenty minutes ago. How had I forgotten about her already?
“She thinks we’re engaged.”
“And why does she think that?”
“Because I-” I broke off, face going hot because I hated what I was about to admit to this man who was still such a mystery, even if my body screamed that it knew him in all the ways that mattered, “because I told her that.”
“Why did you do that?” He asked. His voice was low, interest unmistakable. Curious.
“I liked it when you said it,” I told him honestly. I bit my lip and looked away because it was embarrassing. But the alcohol I’d drank that night was still buzzing in my blood and I was nothing if not forthcoming when I was drinking.
“In the coffee shop?”
“Yes, I liked it then.” I dipped my chin and looked away from him. “I didn’t want to tell her the truth when she asked me about it.”
“How does she not know you aren’t engaged to me? You work together.” I knew he really meantHow could she not know you had a fiancée? How could she believe it was him?
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m a private person,” I told him. “Plus, I move around a lot for work.”
His brow furrowed. “For making coffee? You don’t work at A Different Brew?”
I shook my head. “No, I just sort of moonlight, I guess. I have an app on my phone I use to get shifts. It’s like, you know one of those dating apps, but for work.”
He sucked on his teeth and I could see he was thinking about something, but I couldn’t tell what. The wall he’d built around himself was too damn high for me to get a clear look over. Watching Law was like trying to get a glimpse of a big tree over a privacy fence, you could see the tops of the strong and beautiful tree, but all of the limbs, the foliage and any fruit it might bear was lost to you. Hidden away from view on purpose.
Why did he feel like he had to hide from me? And what was he hiding?
“Do you like the work?” He asked once it seemed like he had settled on something.
“Yes, I like moving around. Been doing it all my life,” I told him. Outside a lightning strike flashed and the room was illuminated which was helpful given the faint light in my apartment was at Law’s back and his face was almost all shadows. If it were any other man I’d be afraid, but I wasn’t with him. Stupid really, given that he had told me I probably should be.
“So you’ve moved a lot then? Not from New York?” He asked.
I gave a quick shake of my head, wet ponytail sticking to my neck in a way that had me sighing and undoing it to pull it into a high bun. So what if I looked raggedy right now? It was late and I hated wet hair sticking to me. If I was going to be trying to figure this man out I wanted to be comfortable while I did it.
