My cheeks flush at his compliment, and I see no trace of humor or insincerity on his face. “Thank you,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to my lap.
“You act like no one’s ever told you you’re beautiful before, and I know that can’t be the truth.”
I tip my chin up, stabbing him with a direct look. “I’m kind of not myself at the moment.”
“I kind of want to do something about that.” His lips kick up, and I can’t help smiling.
“You do?”
He nods.
“Why?”
He purses his lips, taking a moment to reply. “I’ve never felt drawn to any woman from the first second I met them, like I have with you.”
“You were an ass to me,” I remind him.
“I was confused, and it scared the crap out of me. Still does.” He maintains eye contact as he lifts his bottle to his lips, tipping beer into his mouth. Even the way his throat works as he drinks gets my juices flowing. We have this raw sexual chemistry I’m both keen and terrified to explore.
“That makes two of us,” I admit.
“Then I don’t see what the problem is.” His cheeky grin makes a reappearance. “We can be scared together.”
“You don’t just want to fuck me?” I ask, and Ash almost chokes on her drink. I turn to face her, rubbing my hand up and down her back as she splutters. I know she’s talking with Cat and the girl who’s here with Ronan, but she’s definitely keeping one ear on our conversation. As if I wouldn’t tell her everything later, ad verbum.
Dillon’s eyes take a leisurely stroll up and down my body, giving new definition to eye-fucking. He might as well have stripped me bare by the way his scorching gaze mentally undresses me. I flush all over, and I’m sure my cheeks are the color of ripe strawberries. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to my ear. “Trust me, there is no part of me that doesn’t want to fuck you.”
I jerk back, but he slides his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer. “Stop. Fucking. Running,” he growls. “I wasn’t finished speaking.”
“I kind of want to slap you right now,” I admit.
“And I kind of want to knock some sense into that beautiful thick skull of yours. So just shut up and listen.”
I gnash my teeth at him, wondering how it’s possible to want to kill someone and kiss them at the same time.
“You’re sexy with a body to die for. I’m a horny twenty-year-old man with sex on the brain twenty-four-seven. Of course, I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling my cock inside you for days. But—” He grips my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Listen up, Hollywood. This is the important part.” I narrow my eyes to slits, glaring at him, but he just chuckles. “I also want to get to know you. I like being around you.” His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “Your presence calms me, and I just want to spend time with you.”
Ash fails at her attempt to disguise her snort of laughter. I dig my elbow into her ribs and stomp on her foot, hoping she gets the message and butts out.
Dillon blows out a breath before draining the rest of his beer.
My expression softens, matching my insides. Gingerly, I touch his bare arm. His skin is warm to the touch as my fingers stroke the dark hairs coating his muscular arm. Every part of Dillon is gorgeous, but his arm porn is to die for. Shaking myself out of my lustful thoughts, I lift my head, finding his intense gaze waiting for me. Our eyes lock, and our surroundings fade. My heart thumps against my chest cavity, and butterflies swoop into my belly. “I know that was hard for you to say,” I rasp, struggling to speak with the heated way he’s staring at me.
“It was. This isn’t me. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He barks out a bitter laugh. “But I’d like to try.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“Go out with me?”
“Like, on a date?”
He nods.
Wiping my clammy hands down the front of my jeans, I remind myself I’m strong and brave. I’ve promised myself I’m going to go with the flow and see where things take me, so this isn’t difficult to concede. “Okay.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah?”
I smile, hoping I won’t regret this. “Yeah. I’ll go out with you.”
43
“Do I look okay?” I ask, barging my way into Ash’s room without invitation. She’s lying on her stomach on the bed with a pen between her teeth and a book opened in front of her. I’m frazzled over my impending date with Dillon and seriously considering canceling it. I need my Irish bestie to talk me off the ledge.
“You look perfect,” she says, “though you might want to put your hair up.” Her lips twitch, and I narrow my eyes.
“You know where he’s taking me?”
“I do.” She makes a zipping motion with her finger. “Don’t bother asking. These lips are sealed.”
All I know is it’s an afternoon date, and I’m guessing it’s outdoors since Dillon told me to dress warm. “Is it normal to feel physically ill?” I flop down on my back beside her on the bed.
She chuckles. “You’d swear you were never on a date before.”
I roll over onto my side, facing her. “Not like this.”
Genuine curiosity sweeps over her face. “You didn’t get nervous going on dates with Reeve?”
“I did, but it was different. He was my best friend, and I’d known him my whole life. It was more of an excited kind of anticipation. I don’t remember my stomach pitching, my hands sweating, or my heart galloping so fast it feels like I’m on the verge of a coronary. What if I throw up on him?”
She roars out laughing. “You’re too funny.” Seeing my glare, she tries to rein in her mirth. “You’ll be fine. Dillon will put you at ease.” She pats my arm.
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t you know your brother at all? I’ll probably want to poke his eyeballs out in less than a minute.”
“That’s all part of the attraction.” She sits up, cross-legged. “I have a really good feeling about you two.” Her eyes glimmer mischievously. “Imagine you end up getting married!” She squeals, bouncing on the bed. “Then we’d be sisters for real!”
“Aisling Margaret O’Donoghue,” I shriek, whacking her in the chest. “You’re not helping with the no-puking situation!”
“I’m sorry.” She’s trying not to laugh.
“No, you’re not.” I pout.
“No, I’m not,” she agrees, scooting across the bed when I reach to whack her again. “I let my mind run away with me sometimes, but I’m just excited. You two looked so cozy last weekend, and Ro said Dillon’s been writing up a storm all week, which is a sure sign he’s feeling shit.”
“And Ro is really okay with it?”
She bobs her head. “He’s fine. I told you he would be. He’s officially seeing Zara now.”
“Wow. He’s a fast worker.”
“Told ya. Relax. It’s all good. There won’t be any need for pistols at dawn.”
“You’re so weird.” I shake my head, grinning.
“But you love me anyway.”
I throw myself at her, hugging her tight. “I do. Thank you. I needed that pep talk.”
“Just relax and enjoy yourself. Hopefully, my brother won’t irritate you too much!”
“I am not getting on that thing,” I say, setting foot on the sidewalk outside my building and stalking toward the curb to my date. I plant my hands on my hips and glare at Dillon. He’s slouched against the side of his motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket, black jeans, and his usual smirk.
“Scared, Hollywood?” he teases, unfurling to his full height.
“Straight up.”
He moves in close to me, looking hotter than any man has a right to. His fingers curl around my chin. “I thought we agreed we’d be scared together. Hmm?”
“There’s scared, and there’s insanity.” I point over his shoulder. “That is insanity. I saw how crazy you are on that thing, and this might be hard to believe, but I’d love to live to see my birthday in eleven days.”
He chuckles. “You have such little faith.” Leaning in, he presses a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I promise you’ll survive the ordeal.”