And you won’t either, Dani-pie. No woman would.
He finished his sandwich and balled up the trash, effectively ending the meal and the conversation, then he stood to make a jump shot into her barrel across the room. She did the same, stretching her arms and pulling the fabric of that thin tank top tight across her chest.
She missed by a mile.
“You shoot like a girl,” he said.
She shrugged. “I am a girl.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but you’re not like other girls.”
She threw her head back and groaned. “For God’s sake, Dylan. That is so sexist. Of course I’m not like every other girl. We’re all different human beings. You just don’t choose to look past our basic anatomy.” She poked him hard in the ribs.
“Ow! Okay. I’m sorry.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her to his chest.
She struggled against him, but her lips twitched and her eyes danced.
“You know, given your basic anatomy, I thought you’d be stronger.”
“That’s it,” she said. Before he could react, she dipped under his arm and twisted until his arms were locked and immobile. Then she brought her knee back.
He yelped preemptively, nervous and a little turned on. “Truce!”
She still had a hold of his forearms, her nails digging into his flesh while she smiled wickedly. If someone had offered him a million dollars right then not to kiss her, he would gladly work the rest of his life.
Dani released him, and he cupped her face, kissing her softly. She opened easily, letting their tongues touch, and their heat mix. She smiled against his mouth, her eyes closed. He didn’t usually get a round two with Dani on these little appointments, but they also didn’t usually kiss once the clothes came back on. Maybe tonight. Or maybe he’d just take this—her being playful, sweet, so pretty.
She pulled away and her eyes darted nervously before she cleared her throat and walked to her couch. “What do you choose?” she asked while he willed himself to settle down enough to sit beside her on her couch.
“Comedy.”
She groaned. “Of course.”
“By ‘of course’ do you mean ‘thank you, Dylan. I’m still sleeping with my lights on?’”
They had a deal; he chose the genre and she chose the movie. Usually he chose comedy, but last week he’d thrown her a curveball and picked horror. She’d put on some reality ghost hunting show. He’d actually felt bad when he’d gotten up to leave and she’d made him check all of the locks on her door. Because ghosts care about locks.
“I’ll admit I was a little freaked out by that show. I’m not ashamed.” She shrugged. “Fear saves lives.”
“Yeah, no shame in being afraid of Casper.” He flopped down on the couch, the belt he hadn’t bothered to buckle again jingling, and pulled her into the spot beside him. The weather had gotten cooler and he wanted a Dani-sized blanket.
She tossed her bare legs over his lap and he rubbed his palms over her smooth, tan skin. Without thinking, he turned and pressed his lips to her apple-scented hair.
Something deep inside his brain whined like a fire alarm at the domestic gesture. That same alarm he’d heard the night of the Jansen party, before he’d quieted it by talking his way into her bed and doing what he did best.
He’d told himself not to analyze this, but it unnerved him how much he enjoyed these nights with her. If someone had told him two months ago that he’d be looking forward to spending Friday nights watching Netflix and cuddling, he would have laughed in their face, then planned some wild night out on the town to prove them wrong. But these Fridays were becoming his favorite. He hadn’t had a night out since Kendra.
Dani had, though. She’d had plenty of them.
He looked down at her head resting on his shoulder and wondered if she was the same with her soulmate dates as she was with him. Snarky and sweet. Did she look at them the way she’d looked at him on that terrace? Did she tell them stories about her childhood, the things she’d just shared with him?
Of course she did. She should.
Even as he told himself that, he tightened his arm around her, a weird possessiveness nipping at him out of nowhere.
What the hell? He didn’t possess her and he didn’t want to. Not like she was looking for.
He buried that thought and turned his attention to the television. Dani had clicked on an old episode of The Office.
“This is the one where Ryan sets off the fire alarm,” he said, laughing preemptively.
“That’s my date tomorrow night’s name,” she said. “Ryan. Hope he has better cooking skills.”
Dylan’s jaw clenched, annoyance rippling through him. For fuck’s sake, he’d been inside her less than two hours ago. He grunted a reply and pulled his arm back, shifting into the corner of the couch.
Her head popped up. “What?”
“I just could have gone without that info, thanks.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You asked for pictures the first night, Dylan. Now you don’t even want to know a guy’s name?”
She had a point but the wolf stirring in his chest didn’t care. It snarled and spit. “I’m just saying, save the girl-talk for Cat. This isn’t that kind of slumber party.”
Dani’s lips pursed, but not in that get ready to be chewed out way, it was more confusion. Maybe a little hurt feelings. Fucking hell.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
By the time the opening theme song had ended, the tension over his little outburst had turned into another presence and wedged itself into the sliver of space between them. Dani’s legs had gone stiff on his lap, her hands folded politely in her own. His muscles were whining from holding perfectly still, afraid of an accidental brush or caress.
He eyed his shirt across the room, his skin itching with the need to cover himself up. Actually, he was itching to get off of that couch altogether.
He reached down to fasten his belt, giving her a reason to move her legs. “You know what, I’m not really feeling like TV tonight.”
She fiddled with the hem of her tank. “All of a sudden?”
“Yeah. You were right. All that meat gave me a stomachache. I should go.”
“Dylan—”
He held up a hand at the pity in her voice. “No, it’s fine. Things have been getting kinda weird, right? Should probably rein it in a little.”
She nodded her head slowly, and her lower lip pushed out, torturing him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I didn’t know the rules.”