“Yeah, it killed the cat—and satisfaction brought it back, so I’ll take my chances. How many boyfriends, Andressa?”
Smiling at his quip, I loosen up and decide to answer. “A few. Nothing serious.”
“A few? I thought you’d have them lining up.”
I give him a look. “Shockingly, no. Not all men want to date a grease monkey.”
“Grease monkey?” He barks out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re far from that. And you’re wrong about men not wanting a hot-as-fuck woman who works under the hood. Trust me. There’s nothing sexier.”
Hot-as-fuck woman…
“When was your last relationship?”
His question momentarily throws me. I’m still stuck in my hot-as-fuck daze.
But his persistent intrusion into my personal life brings a frown to my face. “Jesus, Carrick, what is this? Question time?”
“It’s called getting to know you.”
“You already know me.”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Do you need to know everything?”
His eyes darken…deepening like an endless chasm, which I could easily fall into.
“About you? Yes.”
My heart skips a good ten beats before restarting back up.
Swallowing, I try to catch the breath he just stole. “Well, there are better things to learn about me than my dating history,” I mumble.
“I’m fully aware of that, but just humor me.”
“Fine…” I huff. “My last boyfriend was, um…” Marcelo, but can that really be classified as a relationship? We only dated for two months, and I was on the road with the team for a good portion of that. “About two years ago,” I finish with.
“You haven’t been with a guy in two years?”
I can’t tell if he’s shocked or appalled. Maybe both. It makes me feel uneasy and embarrassed.
“No. I said I haven’t been in a relationship in two years, not that I haven’t been with anyone.”
That’s actually been…shit. Okay, it’s not far off from two years—about eighteen months. What the hell have I been doing? No wonder I’m as hot for him as I am. I’ve been depriving my body of sex for way too long.
“I’ve been busy.” I sound defensive, but I can’t help it. “And there’s not a lot of time for dating when you work in racing, if you haven’t noticed.” Not that it stops him, but then he doesn’t exactly date.
“What was his name?”
“Whose?”
“The guy you dated two years ago.”
“Marcelo.”
“Sounds like a ponce.”
Laughter escapes me, shaking my shoulders. “He was all right. What about you?”
“Me? I’ve never had a boyfriend, especially not one with a poncy fucking name like Marcelo,” he deadpans.
I playfully swat his shoulder. “You know what I meant. Girlfriend. Spill.”
“One.”
I feel a sharp stab of jealousy. If he’d said ten, I’d have felt better. But one girl means that she had his heart. Maybe she broke it, and that’s why he’s the player he is today.
I focus my stare over his shoulder, like something’s caught my attention, so he can’t see what I know is readable in my eyes. “How long were you together?”
“A day.”
“A day?” I say, aghast. I look back to him, my eyes wide with shock. All trace of my jealousy is gone.
“Yeah…” He lets out a wistful sigh, which punches me straight in the chest. “Her name was Payton Ahearn. Totally loved her, and she dumped me for fucking Tommy O’Connor, all because he got her a necklace. I never did get over it. She ruined me for all other women.”
My face creases in confusion.
“I was six.” He grins.
“You’re an idiot.” I giggle. I actually fucking giggle. What the hell is wrong with me?
Aside from the fact that I’m turning into a total girl, I’d say it’s relief. I’m relieved because no one has held his heart yet.
Why, Andi? Because you want it, him, for yourself?
“I am an idiot.” The seriousness in his voice moves through me, bringing my attention back to him.
His eyes hold mine, and something unknown in them captivates me. But I want to know. And it’s how badly I want to know that is scaring the hell out of me right now.
Usher ends, and Rihanna begins singing “Diamonds.”
“I’m sorry about China,” he says the words so softly.
My eyes dip, right along with my heart. The grip my fingers had on his dinner jacket loosens. “I know.” I sigh lightly. “You’ve already said. And I already told you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
His fingers find my chin, lifting my face to his. “Yes, I did. I proved to you that I’m everything you think I am. You stopped our kiss because you think I’m a player, that I use women.”
“You do use women, and you are a player. But that’s not why I stopped kissing you.”
His brows pull together as his hand moves back to my waist. “So, why?”
“Because I don’t get involved with drivers.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I say it because it’s true.”
“And why exactly don’t you get involved with drivers?”
“Aside from the fact that I work for them…for you.” I flash him a serious stare before looking away. “I have my reasons.”
“Ones you’re not going to tell me?”
My eyes come back to his, giving him my answer.
“And what if I wasn’t a driver? Would you have sex with me then?”
My body jolts at his words, and he feels it. And he definitely likes my response. I can tell from the smile touching the edge of his lips.
“Jesus, you’re so bloody…forward.”
“You don’t get anywhere in life by going backward.”
Does he have an answer for everything?
“Exactly how did we go from me not getting involved with drivers to you and I having sex?”
“We haven’t gotten to the sex yet. Trust me. When we do, you’ll know.”
“Yet?”
“Yes. Now, answer the question.”
How to answer? It’s hard to focus with him so close—his scent filling my head, his hands touching me and clouding my judgment.
“You’re my friend, Carrick…” I let my voice drift, my words linger.
“That’s not an answer. And the reason you won’t answer is because you’re afraid.”
Afraid doesn’t even cut it. I’m terrified. Terrified of what this all means. Of what’s going to happen. Because if he makes a move, I know for certain that I won’t be able to stop him…because I don’t want to.
“Shall I answer for you?” His voice is low, decadent.
Licking my dry lips, I nod.
He moves in, his mouth so very close to mine. His breath blows over my lips, drying the moisture I just gave them, and his stare is doing all kinds of extraordinary things to me.
“Your answer is yes, you would. You’re afraid to say it out loud because you know, once you do, it makes it real—this thing between us—and then you won’t be able to stop it from happening. What, deep down inside, you know is inevitable.”
Is he a mind reader?
He tilts his head back a touch, so his eyes are level with mine. “How did I do?”
My eyes drift to his mouth. His full perfect lips. God, I want to taste them again.
Focus, Andi.
I force my eyes away, and with a shrug of the shoulder, I say, “You did…meh.”