Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(86)

“What?” she asks.

“I’ve got a present for you.”

Confused, she says, “I thought last night was my present.”

“I got you something else.” I reach into the center console and pull out a flat jewelry box. “Here.” I hand it to her.

“Silas,” she says softly as she takes it. “You really did get me something.” When her eyes flash to mine, she asks, “Why?”

“Because you mean something to me. Even if I frustrate you and you don’t understand me sometimes, you matter to me. And you’ve made a difference in my life. I want you to know that.”

She lets out a sigh and leans her head against the window. “Dammit, Silas.”

“What?” I ask.

She softly shakes her head. “I’m ready to freaking scream at you, and then you do something like this. You do something kind. Just like yesterday, I’m ready to scream at you for pulling me out of the club, and then you go and give me the best orgasm of my life.” Her eyes connect with mine. “Best orgasm . . . of my life.”

I wet my lips, my body humming from the compliment.

“Can’t you make up your mind on what you want? I feel like I’m being strung along,” she continues, her voice now more sad than angry. And that makes me feel like shit.

“We made an arrangement, Ollie,” I say softly. “I’m fucking terrified of what will happen if we don’t follow that agreement.”

Because I like you.

Because I can get lost in you.

And because I don’t know what I would do if you hurt me.

“We aren’t following the agreement, Silas. We haven’t been. And meanwhile, you’re hurting me in the process because you know how I feel about you. You know I want you, and you give me hope with experiences like last night. And the worst part is, I know how you feel about me. You want me. I can see it in your eyes. But if I’m off base here, I need you to tell me that’s not the case.” Her eyes lift to mine. “Tell me right now.” I can’t. I can’t tell her I don’t want her because that would be a huge lie, one that she would see right through. So when I don’t say anything, she continues, “See, you can’t even say it. So if we both want each other, why are we not together?”

“It’s complicated, Ollie.” I rub my hand against my forehead. “I told you that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she says with a sigh as she hangs her head low.

Fuck.

I hate making her feel like this.

I hate that dejected look on her face.

I wish I could be more for her.

Shoulders slumped, she carefully opens the jewelry box, revealing two gold necklaces, each with a thin gold bar as the pendant.

Trying to move past her disappointment in me, I say, “This is called a high-low necklace. It represents the highs in your life, your accomplishments, your joy, and the lows in your life, the moments you’ve struggled or felt like the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. I figured with moving forward in your career, you might need a reminder of the journey you’re on to accomplish the goals truly important to you.”

Her finger runs over the thin chain before she glances up at me. The anger is gone, and a hint of sadness is left over, but there’s also gratefulness. “Silas, this is incredibly thoughtful.” She hands it to me, and I panic for a second before she says, “Will you put it on me?”

“Of course,” I answer. While I take the necklaces out, she leans closer to me. When our eyes meet, I feel this instinctual urge to kiss her again, to claim her. To let her take me up to her room and strip down where I would spend the day in bed with her.

Getting lost in her would probably result in one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time.

Instead, I slip the necklaces on and watch as she gently touches them. “I love it. Thank you.”

Then she tilts her head to the side, studying me briefly before she pinches my chin with her forefinger and thumb, brings me in close, and then delivers a gentle yet enticing kiss on my lips.

“You’re welcome,” I say when she pulls away, my lips wanting so much more.

“I’m assuming you’re leaving,” she says.

“Yeah. I have to hit up the weight room today and review some film. Game tomorrow.”

“Will you be home later?” she asks. “I want to get a workout in.”

“Yeah, probably. I’ll leave you alone, though.”

“Please don’t.” She hops out of the car and turns to face me. Standing there, in my shirt and my necklace, I feel my heart beat wildly as I see just how I’ve claimed her. And I know, if I took off those pants of hers, I’d see where else I claimed her. “Hopefully, see you later.” She shuts the door and walks away, my eyes glued on her ass.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, remaining frozen in place. You will not chase after her.

You will not fucking chase after her.





“You did a lot of grunting,” Posey says as we sit in our lockers, fresh from a shower after spending an hour lifting weights.

“So,” I say, knowing he’s right. I did a lot of grunting because I was fucking frustrated. I’m sexually frustrated, and the entire time I was lifting weights, all I could think about was how great Ollie’s pussy tasted and how I wanted so much more.