My hands sweat in my pockets, so I pull them out and surreptitiously wipe them on the bottom of my coat.
I reach in my cross-body bag and pull out my door key. Stone waits quietly as I unlock. My security system starts beeping, but I have a fob on my key chain to shut it off so I don’t have to walk in and punch the code into the panel.
I don’t want to break the valuable proximity already established between us for a good-night kiss, if that is his intent.
I turn around, face Stone, and smile. His hands are still in his coat pockets, and he smiles back.
“Thank you for dinner, again.” Every time we’ve gone out for anything, he always pays. He joked about it one time when I tried to get him to let me pay, saying he was wealthier than I was. Which is not true. I’m sure he’s got a good contract with the Titans, but I’m old-money wealthy.
I didn’t argue with him, though, because he makes sufficient money that it doesn’t hurt his wallet to buy me a meal or two.
And maybe I like the fantasy that he enjoys taking me out.
Stone remains quiet and unmoving. Nervous, I start to babble. “Next time, dinner is on me. I insist.”
“If you insist,” he says with a grin.
Now, see? That’s just confounding.
Gallant Stone, who I know is attracted to me but can’t seem to make a move, just refused the bait. I gave him the opportunity to insist on continuing to pay for dinner, which would suggest something more than friends, right?
Oh my God. I’m actually going crazy. I have to stop this.
I take a step back to my threshold. “All right, then… I know I won’t see you tomorrow before the game, so good luck. I’ll be the one screaming the loudest.”
Something warm flickers in Stone’s eyes, and he nods. “I’m sure I’ll hear you.”
Damn it. If he’s going to kiss me, do it already.
But the more time without a move, the less likely it’s going to happen.
And I know I’m not going to press the issue. “Well then, hope you get a good night’s sleep.”
“You too. Good night.”
Stone turns, and I grimace at the absolute failure of my expectations just now. But he spins back around, and I quickly wipe the look off my face, eyes wide and eyebrows lifted in faux curiosity.
Here it comes. My heart pounds.
“You’re coming out with me after the game tomorrow, right?”
He knows I am. Is he asking because he doesn’t want to walk away?
“I’ll be there,” I assure him. “Just let me know where.”
Stone seems pleased by my answer. “Probably Mario’s, but I’ll text you the details.”
“Good deal,” I reply as I back completely across my threshold. I start to shut the door. “Good night.”
He again bids me good night just before the door clicks shut and I turn around to lean against it.
I lift my head a few inches and let it fall backward with a thump. “Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
My eyes land on Odin, curled up on the couch, watching me with sleepy eyes. I obviously woke him up. His tail thumps on the leather cushion now that he has my attention, but I break it to gaze up at the ceiling.
How I let myself get immersed in such a fantasy with Stone is beyond me. I should’ve been paying attention to the signs the last few weeks. He was brought into my life to be my new friend now that Brooks died. It is a gift. I am grateful, and I need to learn to cherish it for what it is and stop hoping for more.
I push away from my door, tugging off my coat and hanging it on the coat rack. My intent is to head straight to my bedroom to put on pajamas and then I’ll get some Odin cuddles. But I freeze mid-step, remembering now that Stone had a look on his face just before I shut the door.
Was it disappointment? Was he hoping for something different and didn’t want to make the move since I’m the one who drew the line to start?
I shake my head. “Stop looking for things that aren’t there, Harlow.”
I take another step and stop again.
Yes, I think there was disappointment. Or maybe not disappointment, but a hopeful expectation that wasn’t met? That’s a nicer way of saying it.
There was definitely something in his expression that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I can tell he was bothered by something.
I pivot toward my door and stare at it. I can stay here in my condo and go on with my life just as it is. Which will include going to bed and probably lying awake for a long time, wondering about what-ifs.
It’s a safe move.
Or… I can pull up my britches and investigate exactly what might be between me and Stone.
But I’m the one who’s going to have to take action.
A sudden burst of courage flushes through me, and I turn the knob. “I’ll be back,” I say to Odin.
I march down to Stone’s condo and stop before his door.
Taking a deep breath, I try to quell the nerves and raise my hand to knock. I wait to see if doubt will creep in and send me scurrying, but I realize I’m sick of having conversations with myself about what Stone is feeling.
It’s time I find out and put this to rest.
Knock, knock, knock.
My knuckles are swift and decisive in announcing my presence.
I hear footsteps and almost bolt but then have another surge of bravery and hold my ground.
And then the door is open and Stone is looking at me, head tilted in curiosity.
I should demand to know his intentions. Ask him to stop giving me mixed signals, even though those admittedly may all be in my head.
I want to insist he make things clear to me so I can stop wondering.
Instead, I remember all the obstacles I’ve overcome and how hard I’ve battled for sobriety, and that I am a strong, independent woman who can accomplish anything.
So I step over Stone’s threshold, walk right into his body, and wrap my arms around his neck. I pull him down so his mouth is forced to mine, and I kiss him with all my might.
I can feel the jolt of surprise through his body, and I’m terrified he’ll push me away. He certainly has every right to do so since I laid the initial boundary.
But to my immense relief, Stone utters a growl low in his chest that reverberates into mine, my body pressed tight to his. He kisses me back.
It’s so different from that first kiss fueled by such negative emotion. I mean, that kiss was hot in all its glory, but this one… it’s not only scorching, but it feels exquisitely intimate. Like I’m bared before Stone, and he can see everything about me.
His arms wrap around me, and he drags me inside, kicking the door shut. I’m walked into a wall as a hand slides behind my neck, fingers into my hair where he grips tight.
Almost as if he’s afraid I’ll push him away again.
But I won’t.
His lips travel to my jaw, along my neck, and my fingers dig hard into his chest.
I’m spun around again, walked backward into the living room, and I’m somehow flat on my back on the couch with Stone stretched over me.
His leg wedged in between mine, his weight held up by his hand pressed into the cushion, he kisses me hard and deep and possessively. The kiss is so erotic, it lights something inside me I never knew I had.
Desperate to touch him, my hands snake under his sweater, roaming warm skin over hard muscles that jump under my fingers. Stone’s hand works at the button on my pants, and when I feel him tugging at the zipper, my hips lurch upward—a silent demand for him to get my clothes off.