I laughed. “That question was hardly harassment.”
He pulled the carton of milk from his refrigerator and set it down on the island in front of me, precisely and thoughtfully. I could see the veins in his hands, evidence of an early morning workout, no doubt.
“It’s not like you have to prove anything to me,” I continued. “I was just wondering…”
I let the second half of the sentence linger, suddenly feeling too nervous to expand on my thoughts.
“Wondering what?”
His eyes dared me to be honest, and I’d never been good at turning down a dare.
“It just seems like guys like you—the powerful assholes of the world—are supposed to be really good in bed.” His eyes widened only slightly, and I swore I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. He propped his hands up on the edge of the island and leaned forward, gaze locked on mine.
“And what has your experience been?”
I shook my head. “I’ve only been with guys my own age.”
“So?”
I shrugged. “In college, anyone can be a rich kid, with a big ego and daddy’s checkbook. It’s another thing entirely to be powerful on your own.”
His nostrils flared and then he pushed back off the counter. “Well if you ever care to put your little theory to the test, you know where to find me.”
I laughed.
He was joking.
He had to be joking.
Right?
I opened my mouth to clarify but the doorbell rang before I could. Loud, obnoxious, and horribly timed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dean
I rounded the corner back to my house, but instead of slowing down, I passed my stoop and kept going. My run was over, but the fire inside me wasn’t tamed. My problem with Lily was no closer to being solved.
The meeting at my house the day before had gone to shit within the first five minutes. The team had gathered around my kitchen so we could go over final items for Vegas, but the entire time, I could feel Lily’s curious gaze on me. She’d sat at my kitchen table, picking apart my words in her mind and making them out to be more than they’d been. The dare I’d spoken just before everyone had arrived had been a joke. Nothing more. I could have clarified that, but instead, I’d let it linger between us, suffocating the room with questions.
I could still reach out to her and squash the invitation. I had her email, her cell phone number, and her address, but something held me back.
It was that something that made me want to keep running.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lily
I stood across the street from Dean’s house, knowing full well that I shouldn’t have been standing across the street from Dean’s house. It was the night before we were supposed to leave for Vegas. I had a flight at 8 AM, a few things left to pack, and at least another hundred reasons why I shouldn’t have been staring at Dean’s black lacquered front door.
All day, I’d replayed his words in my mind. All day, I’d backtracked and broken down and read between the lines. I ran through Central Park with my iPod blaring and still, Dean’s words rang louder. I stood in line at a coffee shop and tried to find a single guy that was as attractive as Dean. As annoying. As bossy. As challenging. I ate at a newly opened deli for lunch, hoping to review it for my blog, but I’d finished off my sandwich without registering a single flavor.
Dean had me wrapped up around him with a single sentence.
“Well if you ever care to put your little theory to the test, you know where to find me.”
Fuck him.
I pulled my phone out of my purse and texted Jo.
Lily: I’m about to have sex in New York for the first time…
Jo: Whoa! Please say it’s not going to be with Hobo Nelson.
Lily: Dean.
Jo: Wait. Wait. Wait. ABORT. Answer your phone.
She called right then, illuminating my screen with her photo. I ignored her. I wasn’t looking for her blessing; I just wanted her to know where to find me in case Dean and I accidentally killed each other.
I slipped my phone back into my purse as it continued to ring. Phone call. Voicemail. Phone call. Voicemail. Jo wouldn’t stop until I picked up. Instead, I took my first step across the street as my heart started to thump in my chest, too hard to go unnoticed. The lights were off in his house. For all I knew, he wasn’t home.
Still, I had to try.