Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(49)

Me: Semantics.

The little dots pop up in the corner before disappearing. Then they keep doing it, back and forth, for a couple minutes, and finally stopping altogether.

Two minutes pass, then five, and still no response.

A slight twinge of disappointment hits me square in the chest as I set my phone down on the bed beside me, realizing I might’ve played this game with him a little too well.

But then my phone dings with another text notification.

Oakley: So is that a no?

An invisible coil constricts around my heart and lungs, and I do my best to sound casual as I type out my response.

Me: What did you have in mind?





Eighteen

Oakley

January

Five past noon on New Year’s Day, two hands cover my eyes, blocking my view of Millennium Park and scaring the absolute fucking shit outta me. But the second I hear the smooth cadence of Quinton’s laugh, the fear turns quickly into…irritation.

“Why are you like this?” I snap, yanking at his wrists so I can see again.

When I turn around to face him, I become even more irritated to find he looks fucking edible in a beanie, jeans, and long black jacket. A sexy-as-hell look he can pull off any day of the week, but even more so today with his glasses on.

He smirks in his signature way, a dimple popping in one cheek. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific. Why am I so ruggedly handsome? Why am I always late? Why—”

“Why do you get off on being such a gigantic pain in my ass?” I finish, pointing a glare at him.

“You’d know a lot about what gets me off, wouldn’t you?”

Oh, I do. But it’s not something I need to be thinking about in public. Around children, no less.

“Unbelievable,” I mutter under my breath.

He laughs, a sound that used to grate on my nerves, but now I want to hear it more. “You make it so easy sometimes.”

Both dimples make their appearance now. They seem to do more and more around me lately, and every time I see them, it does this weird thing to my chest. A sort of…fluttering.

“I’m already regretting asking you to hang out.”

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” he points out, crossing his arms. “Truth be told, I was more surprised you did in the first place.”

“Like I said, it was purely out of charity. I didn’t want you to suffer any more than you already were.”

A grin the Cheshire Cat would be envious of spreads over his face. “Except I’ve been back at my apartment on campus since the day after Christmas.”

“What?”

“I only told you I was busy to see how long you could hold out without begging me to move things around. Props to you, by the way. I thought for sure you’d cave before now.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the expletives from spilling free around all these impressionable ears. Mostly because he’s right. I almost caved plenty of times, hoping to find a way to see him before today.

But there’s no fucking way I’m letting it slip now.

Why does he have to ruin everything?

“Not at all. Like I said, I just wanted to get you out of the house. But now that I know you’re perfectly fine and also a liar, I’m leaving.”

I move to walk away, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back. Right into his chest, with our mouths only inches apart.

“You’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” he murmurs. The heat of his breath sends shivers down my spine and goosebumps breaking out across my skin. “Because I know you missed me.”

“Only in your dreams.”

Another sinful, dimpled smile curves his lips. “There’s plenty of things we do in my dreams, but that’s not one of them.”

The filthy, seductive tone of his voice sets my blood to a boil. Not in anger, but with desire. And paired with the way he’s holding me against him, the proximity of his lips to mine, makes it all the harder to resist him.

“There are kids around,” I hiss, already trying to tamp down my cock thickening against his thigh. Something he’s all too aware of from the way he discreetly presses against it.

“And here I thought you were a master of self-control.” Another shift of his thigh sends a zap of lust straight to my balls. “Better get a grip on that libido, Reed.”

The sexual tension zapping between us is palpable, though he seems unaffected. But that won’t do for me. I want—no, I need—him just as hot and bothered as I am right now. So I do what makes sense when it comes to a showdown with Quinton de Haas.

I fight fire with fire.

“I hope you know how much you’re going to regret this the next time I get you in bed.”

His nostrils flare, the heat in his gaze magnified in intensity as he stares at me through his lenses. Enough to make me think I’ve won this little battle of wills he’s started.

But then he takes it a step further, letting his lips brush against mine as he speaks. “Oh, believe me. I’m counting on it.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip to keep from biting into his, and I step away. “You win this round, de Haas.”

A shit-eating grin spreads across his face, almost breaking it in two.

“A fantastic way to start the day.” He claps his hands together, child-like giddiness and excitement radiating off him. “Now what do you have planned for us?”