“Yeah, well, I’m not always the best at holding my tongue.”
“Me neither. Can we drop this conversation? I can think of much better things to do right now.”
“Yeah. I can think of better things too.” He took my champagne out of my hand and set it down next to his own. “Much better.” His arms came around my waist, pulling me close again, as his lips brushed against mine.
I moved my lips against his, wanting my dose of cinnamon and so much more. I bit his lower lip, and he groaned, opening up to me as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
The kiss deepened, and I slipped a hand under the front of his t-shirt, exploring the muscular planes of his chest as his hand glided across my stomach. I mentally willed his hand to move higher, and when my wishful thinking failed me, I used my own hand to show him that I wanted him to explore.
He didn’t need much prodding. His hand found my breast, cupping it over my bra before moving over to the next. This time he slipped his hand under my bra, intensifying the sensation and making me need his touch more. His other hand moved up my skirt, a finger slipping under the elastic of my panties, but moving no farther. “We should stop.”
“Yeah, too many windows,” I joked. That late at night the windows weren’t a problem.
He laughed, but then got serious. “I think our first time should be some place a little more private. We don’t have to rush anything.”
I wanted to argue that we didn’t have to have sex, that I was more than happy to find other outlets of satisfaction, but I didn’t like the way that would make me sound. We could handle waiting until we got back to one of our places if that’s what he wanted. But was it what I wanted? Did I really want a guy who could hold off having sex with me because he didn’t like our location?
His lips teased my neck one more time. “It won’t be long.”
Yes. I did want this guy despite his iron-clad resistance.
“This is a weird time to ask this, but I probably won’t unless I do it now.”
“What?” My mind, foggy from lust, tried to predict what he’d ask.
“I have a bit of a favor to ask of you.”
“A favor?” Those words made me nervous. Favors usually weren’t good things.
“I’ve been talking about you to my friends…” He didn’t sound as happy about that statement as I would have hoped.
“Oh, is that a bad thing?”
“No. Of course not. But I may have made us sound more serious than we are.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I can’t shut up about you.”
I bit back a smile. Colin was so cute sometimes. “So what’s the favor?”
“I’m a groomsman in a wedding next weekend, and I’m supposed to bring you.”
“Supposed to bring me?”
“Yeah, I understand if you don’t want to go, but I’d like it if you did.” He laced his fingers with mine. His breathing was normal, but the heated look in his eyes hadn’t disappeared. I fought the urge to start kissing him again. For whatever reason, he wanted to take things slow, and as hard as it was, I was going to find a way to respect that.
“Where’s the wedding?”
“Raleigh.”
“Are you staying overnight?”
“I have a hotel for two nights.”
“Oh.” A hotel with Colin sounded appealing—especially at that moment. Meeting his friends and going to the wedding of people I didn’t know didn’t sound so great.
“But it’s a suite with a bed and a pull-out couch. No expectations that we sleep together.”
I guess that meant he wasn’t taking me home with him. I tried to let the disappointment mitigate before answering. “You think that’s why I’d say no?”
“No. I bet you have a hundred reasons to say no. But I’d love it if you said yes.”
“This is next weekend?”
“Yes. I know it’s late notice.”
“I’ll see if I can get off.”
“Wait. Seriously? You’ll go?”
“And you say I have bad self-image.”
He laughed. “I was trying to keep my expectations reasonable.”
“I can’t promise anything until I talk to Max.” Was I really agreeing that easily? Was I doing it for the hope of sex—or was I going because he wanted me to?
“Awesome. I’ll make it a fun weekend.”
“You’re all about making things special, huh?”
He took my face in his hands. “Yes, when it comes to you.”
Chapter Ten
Max had no problem giving me the weekend off. I took the afternoon shift on Friday, even though I knew the place would be dead, and I’d be lucky to make anything in tips.
Macon came by around three to keep me company. His job was as slow as mine now.
“You need to call your parents.” Macon took his eyes off the tower of straws he was building.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because they’re worried about you. I don’t want them coming here to check on you.”
“They’re not coming here.”
“You want to bet? I may have told them that you’re living with a guy twice your age and making meth in the basement.”
I could only stare at him. It had to be a joke.
“The funny part is your dad was more concerned about the guy than the drugs.”
I checked to make sure Max wasn’t around before spraying Macon in the face with the water. “You are something else.”
“What the hell is up with you and getting me wet?” He wiped off his face with his t-shirt. “There are much more fun ways to do that.”
“Please no sex jokes when we’re talking about my dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’d think after all these years your dad would get my sense of humor.”
I groaned, taking a seat on a stool. “He’s never going to get it.”
“Just call them. They’re your parents. They’re harmless people, a little neurotic at times, but nice. You can’t be that scared.”
“That’s what you think. They would never show you their scary side.” I stared at the screen of my phone. The background photo was of my Labradoodle, Tiny. The name was a joke. Tiny was huge. He was also in Charlottesville with my parents.
“I’m calling, but I expect you to make an excuse to get me off the phone in five minutes.”
He grinned. “Oh, I’ll come up with an excuse.”