“I prefer wild,” I breathe out, finishing on a moan.
“You’re bad and you’re wild.” He picks up his pace. “You’re my wild, tempting bitch. Don’t go soft on me.”
I laugh, my fists clenching above my head. “Never.”
And when I come, it’s hard and it’s wild.
14
Angus looks at me like I’ve refused another one of his dead bird gifts.
“Oh, come on. Sean came in to feed you.”
His tail waves behind him.
“Angus. What if I buy you catnip? Will we be friends then?”
He hops off the counter and stalks away. He’s one pissed-off kitty.
“Do you often talk to your cat like he’s a human?” Tyler says from behind me, amused.
“Do you often question everything?” I retort, stalking into the bathroom to grab the laundry basket.
“I’m amazed you have a washing machine up here. You know, every Brit thinks The Big Bang Theory’s apartment block is the standard, right?”
I roll my eyes. “In smaller apartments, yeah. This is fairly big as it goes. Dayton helped me put down the deposit so I didn’t have to f**k around with a laundry room.”
“She helped you buy your apartment?”
“She said it was my birthday present for four years.” I smile wryly. “Seriously. I haven’t had a birthday present for two.”
Tyler laughs and opens my fridge. “You have no food.”
“Between work and you, I haven’t exactly had a chance to go to the store.” I start the machine and stand up. “I still don’t understand why you followed me home.”
“I have nothing to do today. I was hoping you could entertain me.” He grins wolfishly.
“Seriously? What, three times in twelve hours isn’t enough for you?”
“Babe, I’m a sex addict.”
“It’s really cute that you’re trying to pull that card.” I tap his nose. “But it’s not gonna work. Unless you’re proposing we do something normal, you can go home.”
He stops. “Are you saying if I planned something to do, you’d come?”
I freeze. “No.”
“No, don’t do that with me.” He bends down in front of me on the sofa. “I won’t ask you to define what we’ve got going on. I won’t force you into that, but don’t keep it going backward. Don’t panic every time I say or do something that might make you a little uncomfortable.”
“People panic when shit gets uncomfortable.” Especially me. I like to freak. “But if you really, really want to do something, I suppose I’m okay with that. Kind of.”
And that’s exactly how we end up leaving my apartment and heading out.
Okay, so I can understand wanting to go out. But the pier? When it’s, like, forty degrees out? Uh, no. That I don’t f**king understand. I also don’t like it. One bit.
Which is why I’m hiding out in the restaurant with a hot chocolate while he stares at me across the table. I class this as getting out, for the record. I also class this as a maybe-date. He should be thankful. He even got English tea.
“You make things very hard.”
“I make something very hard,” I quip, dropping my eyes.
“It’s never not f**king hard around you, you tease.”
I grin. “That’s what you get when you have a girl who guards her heart with sex.”
Tyler doesn’t reply. He studies me across the table, his gorgeous eyes flicking over my face. He scratches his jaw, still watching me thoughtfully, and leans back. “I have to ask you something.”
“Um, okay?”
“Stone Advertising is throwing a party—it’s a celebration for Aaron. In one year, he smashed every expectation anyone had. He pushed the company into the billion-dollar threshold and managed to secure a five-year contract with the newest, hottest fashion designer before anyone had even heard of her.”
“Impressive.” I sip my hot chocolate, keeping my face impassive. I think I know where this is going, and I’m trying to ignore the thump of my heart.
“It’s next weekend. Saturday.”
I’m not working Saturday. Dammit.
“I’ve been invited. So have you.”
“Good to know. Where are you going with this?”
His lips twitch. “I want you to go with me.”
“It’s not really a good idea if we’re seen together at a company party. Don’t you think?”
He laughs. “I knew you’d say that. But here’s the thing—I’m not employed by Aaron. And neither are you. You employ his agency.”
I open my mouth but immediately close it again. Dammit. I don’t have an argument for that.
“So it doesn’t really matter if we go together. We’re not breaking any rules.”
“Um.” My mouth is dry. I drink, but it makes no difference. “When you say ‘go together,’ do you mean like…”
“A date, Liv. Yes. I’m asking you to come with me as my date.”
I exhale slowly. Ooookay. “Um. I… I have to go. I can’t think right now. I…” I close my eyes and stand up. “I’m sorry. Please let me go think.”
He looks like he wants to argue. To fight. But he doesn’t. He simply nods once and I run out of the restaurant.
My head pounds as I walk through Seattle. I’m not paying any attention to where I’m going. I’m just walking.
A date. That’s…a big, almost nonexistent line. Sure, the drink in the bar and the drink just then could have been constituted as dates. Hell, the time we had dinner with Day and Aaron and Tyler pinned me against my car and kissed the f**k out of me could have been a date.
But none were ever defined. And I can deal with that. I can deal with a hazy fog of not knowing because then I can convince myself that it’s not real and I don’t crave his touch or the sound of his voice or the flick of his tongue and oh my god.
I am so f**king f**ked.
I lean against a wall and bury my face in my hands. Here it is—my admission to myself.
I’m getting addicted to Tyler Stone. Not only my mind, but my body, too. And quite possibly my heart.
That’s the worst. The heart. If I agree to this date, I’m agreeing to let my heart get addicted. It’s one thing for my body to crave him. It’s something quite different if my heart does.
Because bodies can’t be destroyed by love. Hearts can. Even minds can be.