“Oh really?” she scoffed. “So it’s just coincidence that you’re taking her side on everything. You just don’t want to see me happy, so you’re doing your best to ensure my relationship with Gray never has a chance.”
“You don’t even like the guy!” Will yelled. “This isn’t about Gray or Sophie, it’s about you trying to control absolutely every little detail in your life because you don’t know what you really want.”
“I do know what I want! I want Gray. He’s perfect for me. Smart, successful, genteel…”
“The man’s a Goddamn mannequin, which is exactly what you think you want because you can ensure he fits into your plastic life.”
“Why are you acting like this?” she whispered, staring into his blazing blue eyes. “I know we’re always bickering, but you’ve never been cruel before.”
“God, Brynn.” He turned away and stared out the front of the car, running his fingers through his blond hair and muttering a string of curses.
“I don’t expect an apology,” she said quietly. “I know better. I just want to know why.”
“Why? Why?!” His voice had taken on an agitated tone, and he sounded completely unlike the controlled and manipulative Will she knew so well.
“This is why, Brynn.”
A rough hand slid behind the nape of her neck and jerked her over to the driver’s-side seat. Firm lips slammed down on hers as he held her head still and took control of her mouth.
She parted her lips on a surprised gasp and his tongue flicked teasingly across her bottom lip. Brynn moaned. She didn’t know if this was supposed to be her punishment, her embarrassment, or simply more ammunition that he could use against her, and she didn’t care.
She didn’t care that they hated each other, didn’t care that she was lying awkwardly across the middle console of his car like one of his groupies.
She didn’t care that he probably had some sort of agenda or that she was most certainly going to regret this in the morning.
Because at this moment, all she cared about was kissing Will.
His tongue slid against hers in a silky stroke and she moaned again. Winding her arms around his neck, Brynn pressed closer, letting her tongue tangle with his in a kiss that wasn’t civilized or rehearsed or practiced. Kissing Will was a lot like dirty dancing. It was heady, instinctual, and it gave her the urge to move her hips.
They kissed like they argued. Savagely, taking as much as they gave. His hands tilted her head to the side so he could press deeper, and this time it was Will who let out a low groan. His mouth broke away from hers, and his lips softly pressed against the side of her mouth, skimming along her jaw before gently brushing her cheeks, her eyelids.
Reality crashed down as Brynn realized what he was doing. He was kissing away her tears. He cupped her face gently, as though using his lips to try to erase the pain he’d caused.
And suddenly it just felt too…tender. Animal passion had been safe. She could blame that on the champagne and their anger.
But kindness and tenderness from Will…she couldn’t…she wouldn’t…
She pulled away sharply.
“Brynn,” he said quietly, reaching out to her again.
“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t.”
Clutching her purse, she scratched at the door again, shoving it open in clumsy haste. She set one foot out into the stormy night before hesitantly looking back at him.
“You won’t…you won’t tell anyone about this, right? We’ll just chalk it up to a moment of absurd insanity?”
Any softness that might have been in his eyes vanished. “Don’t worry,” he snapped. “Your secret is safe with me. You think I want anyone knowing that I failed to get a hot reaction from Ice Princess Brynn? You’re just as cold as everyone thinks you are.”
She didn’t let his words sting. She was already numb.
“Good night, Will,” she said stonily as she climbed out of the car. “If you’ve given me some sort of disease, you’ll be hearing from me.”
She’d barely slammed the door before he peeled away from the curb with a squeal of tires. Typical, she thought. Slowly her snarl faded as she stood hunched in the rain, staring after his long gone taillights.
That was a mistake. The realization came as a shock.
Because Brynn Dalton did not make mistakes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I didn’t even know Seattle had a baseball team,” Gray said under his breath, as he studied the elaborate retractable roof of Safeco Field.
“Easy, there,” Ian said as he handed Gray another beer. “I’ll have you know that the Mariners are well ahead of your White Sox this year.”
“They used to be your White Sox too,” Gray said, taking a sip of beer.
“Sure, but then I moved here. And now I’m a Mariners fan,” his best friend said succinctly.
“That’s just as well—you’ll never have to worry about the hassle of getting World Series tickets.”