The Hot One

There’s that word again. I’m not the only one dealing with regret, or the prospect of it.

Then, she meets my eyes, and says softly, “I had a change of heart. That’s all. And now I really need to go.”

Change of heart.

That’s exactly what I don’t want her to have with me right now. I need to plead my case for another shot. And since she’s seeing her friends tomorrow, they’re the real judge and jury I’ll have to impress. I’ve got a small window to make sure Delaney knows I’m not the same guy who walked away eight years ago. I can be different.

After I pay, we head outside. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the bar, I raise my hand and finger the strands of her hair. I play to my strengths again. The physical. She leans into my hand. There. Yeah. That.

And another strength? Memory for details, especially about the things that are important to me. “Are you going for a run tomorrow morning?”

She gives me a “how’d you know my schedule” look.

“I figured you go for a run nearly every morning.”

A small smile is my answer. “I do.”

“With your friends?”

She shakes her head. “Tomorrow I’m solo. I like to run early on Saturday, since I have appointments in the morning. And getting Nicole out of bed at that hour is like asking a dog to eat broccoli.”

“Early wake-up calls don’t bother me, nor does broccoli. Tell me where to meet you.”

“Tyler,” she says, resisting.

I drop my hand to her shoulder. “Just a run. That’s all. We can run and talk. Or we can run and not talk.”

“Why?”

I cup her cheek and run my thumb over her top lip. “Because seeing you reminds me that I was wrong to listen to Professor Blair. And since I don’t have Cat Crazypants’s power to turn back time, all I can do is ask to be your running companion tomorrow morning.”

Her brown eyes sparkle. “Cat Crazypants can turn back time?”

“He sure as hell can.”

And maybe I can, too, in my own way, since she says yes.

I’ve been granted a continuance.





13





Tyler



* * *



In the half light of the early dawn, I jog lightly from my apartment and through the tree-lined streets on the Upper East Side, my phone pressed to my ear.

It’s a Saturday morning and early as hell, but I have a nervous client to talk down again. “Jay, I spoke with Craig yesterday and told him we weren’t going to budge on the last point for After Dark. It’s a deal-breaker.”

Jay hums, and he hems, and he haws. I’m sure he’s pacing like a caged animal at his pad. “Are you sure we should be so firm?” His voice squeaks.

“Jay, my man,” I say with calm and confidence as I slow at the crosswalk, “trust me on this. I’ve dealt with Craig before. I know his issues. But more than that, this is a point we need to hold out for.”

“A hill worth dying on?”

As I cross Fifth Avenue when the light changes, I assure him that yes, this is our hill. “We can do this, man. Sometimes you have to take a chance to get what you want. You believe that, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer at first, and part of me is ready to answer my own damn question. Life is all about chances. If you want something, you simply have to go for it.

He exhales nervously. “Okay. If you say so, boss.”

“I do say so,” I tell him, keeping up the energy, especially since he’s stewing in a worrisome funk. “Listen, it’s six in the morning. Get back to sleep, and trust that we’re taking this leap together and I won’t let you down.”

I swear I can see him nodding and smiling from his apartment in Brooklyn. “Okay, Tyler. I’m getting back in bed right now. Orders of my attorney.”

“Excellent,” I say, then I hang up and coast into the park, cruising past tall trees and fat bushes until I spot a sexy angel stretching near the reservoir.

Holy good morning view.

As the sun rises, I thank the Lord for my eyesight. Hot pink shorts hug her rear today, and I enjoy every second of the view as she practices hamstring lunges with her back to me. My dick likes the view, too, so I adjust myself in my shorts, lest I show up sporting a maypole.

But then again, who the fuck cares if she knows I’m hot for her? Pretty sure she got that memo.

I head over to Delaney.

She turns her head.

And waves.

And smiles.

That smile makes me feel like I can do this. Like I can win her heart again. Mine pounds faster as I near her, and it’s not just because I happen to think she’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, but because of who she is.

I arrive at her side, and she straightens. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s that awkwardness again, and I want no part of it today. Like the bungee jumper I am, I lean in and dust a quick kiss on her lips. At first, she freezes. That won’t fucking do at all. My tongue darts out, flicking her top lip. A soft breath escapes her, and she gives in. Her sweet lips linger on mine, sending a charge down my spine. My brain leapfrogs ahead, and I picture scooping her up in my arms, carrying her to a quiet little patch of trees, and kissing her till she begs me to take her home.

I want that badly—I want her to beg for it because she’s at her happiest when she’s overcome—but I suspect it’s too soon for her.

Not to mention, screwing in Central Park usually results in a public citation. Public fornicators are never as clandestine as they think they are.

I nibble lightly on her bottom lip for a few seconds, drawing out a throaty murmur from her. Then I somehow find the will to separate.

She blinks. Several times. She sways the slightest bit, like her feet barely touch the ground. Good. I want her to be affected.

She furrows her brow. “I’m sorry, but do we kiss now when we see each other in the park?”

“Evidently we do.”

“Weird. Because I didn’t get that memo.”

I rock on my heels. “Want me to take it back?”

“The kiss or the memo?”

“The memo,” I say matter-of-factly, like this is all so obvious. “You can’t take a kiss back.”

“You sure on that, Nichols?”

“I can try to take back the kiss. Want me to, sweet girl?” I use the term of endearment I once called her. She doesn’t blanch, and that’s a damn good sign.

She smirks. “Be my guest.”

I kiss her once more, like I’m reversing the lip lock, doing it all in rewind, pulling away ever so slowly, ever so softly, leaving her dazed once more.

Perfect.

If she can drive me this crazy, make me this hard, send the temperature in my blood to beyond incendiary, the least I can do is return the favor.

Judging from her reaction, I’m doing it right.

I gesture from her to me. “Like that. I think that’s how you take back a kiss.”

Chuckling, she nods to the running path. “Ready for me to kick your ass?”

Every competitive bone in my body snaps to attention. “We’ll see about that,” I say, then I smack her pink nylon covered behind.

Her eyes widen, saying oh-no-you-didn’t.

But there’s a twinkle in those baby browns that says the lady might like spanking.