Page 6 of Cash (Big Hot Alphas 4)

“Not actively. I’ll look at listings every now and then.”

“Same here.” I spin the umbrella in my drink. “It’s fun to see what’s out there. Well, and a little depressing, when I see how much they’re selling for.” Suddenly, remembering something, I clap my hands together. “Oh! Guess what? The ghost house finally got torn down.”

Cash immediately knows what I’m referring to: an ancient, creepy house the two of us used to speed past on our bikes. “No shit?”

I nod. “Yup. Now there’s this huge new house in its place. Honestly, it’s almost uglier than the old one.”

“Bet you it’s haunted,” Cash says.

“Right?” I say, widening my eyes and sucking air between my teeth.

We share a laugh. Meanwhile, above us, a new song starts playing, a song that vaguely reminds me of a slow song from our high school days.

Or am I just imagining that?

“So how many hearts have you broken since we last saw each other?” I ask Cash.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Not as many as you, I’m sure.”

“Way to avoid the question.”

“You seriously want an answer?” he says. “Okay. Truth is, I haven’t broken any hearts.Orhad my heart broken. I’ve dated, sure, but I haven’t had any serious relationships.”

I’m surprised to hear him say that. Really surprised, actually.

“So you just go around sleeping with women, huh?” I say with a smirk.

His mouth flattens. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh,” I say, embarrassment washing over me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that—you know—”

“That I’m a manwhore?”

We both start laughing. God, does it feel good. It feels just like the old days, when life felt so much more…I don’t know. So much more simple and sweet, I guess.

“Your turn, Dani,” he says. “Fess up.”

The past ten years of my love life swiftly shuffle by in my mind: all the mediocre dates I’ve been on, the couple of short relationships I’ve had that didn’t go anywhere.

“There’s not much to tell,” I say.

“Riiight,” he says, looking at me like he doesn’t believe me.

“There really isn’t!” I insist.

“All right,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender.

I take another sip of my drink, the tropical flavors delighting my taste buds. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious. In fact, everything about this moment feels pretty damn close to perfect: the relaxed, romantic mood of the bar, the feeling that this night could go on forever, the ease between Cash and myself.

I glance over at him and am struck, once again, by how attractive he is. Every inch of him is alluring. The next thought I have is unavoidable: I wonder what it would be like to sleep with him.

Oh, God. To feel Cash’s bare skin against mine…to be enveloped by him…to share that kind of raw intimacy with him…

…I have no doubt it would be incredible.

And yet, at the same time, I can’t help but think about the day he told me his family was moving, when I suggested that we sleep together. I’d been ready. For God’s sake, I’d been inlovewith him. But he didn’t want to—and that stung so damn much.

If he rejected me once, who’s to say he wouldn’t reject me again?

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