Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful #1)(53)

Her expression turned serious, eclipsing the gratefulness he’d seen when he’d changed the subject. “But it’s so important to you,” she said.

“Yeah, but—” Back up. He shook his head. “I never told you that.”

“It was obvious. You care about those kids. They need you.” She pushed her falafel around with her fork. “Who’s going to help them if you’re not around?”

He blew out a breath, when her words echoed the ones that had been circling his own mind. “I don’t know. Another lawyer. Maybe no one.”

Roxy stayed silent a moment. “I’m not going to pretend I understand the world you work in. It’s nothing like mine. But it seems to me . . .” She pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “If they know it means a lot to you and don’t care . . . you can do better.”

“Maybe they think they can do better, too.” The concern he hadn’t even allowed himself to voice slipped out before he could stop it. “Better than me.”

“No,” she said decisively. “I saw you work, Louis. I didn’t understand a crap load of it . . .” They shared a laugh. “But I know if they let you leave, they’d be letting one of the good guys go. I know that.”

Shit. His throat hurt a little. He wondered if she’d push him off or hold him closer if he tackled her onto the sidewalk. “Thanks.”

They passed a few minutes in comfortable silence before Roxy spoke again. “What I said before made it sound like I’m bitter. About my parents, everything. I’m not,” she continued. “I’ve had to work harder to do it on my own. I want to succeed on my own, without any help. And I’m going to.”

Fear trickled through his veins. He’d never seen her look so determined. Succeeding on her own was important to her. Possibly the most important thing to her. He’d taken that away from her with one phone call. He’d given his help without asking, thinking she might turn it down if he was up-front about it. Now he knew for certain she would have turned it down. But it was too late to take it back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

For being a selfish, presumptuous prick, he wanted to say, but the flippant way she posed the question told him she needed a distraction from the topic. He wanted to give it to her. Wanted to give her anything she wanted. Not to mention, he sorely needed one himself. “I’m sorry you’ve got the job of informing truck number one his falafel came in second place.”

Her mouth lifted at the edges. “I concur. Overcooked.”

He took their containers and stood before tossing them into a nearby garbage can. When he saw that the truck owners were distracted, he winked at Roxy. “Maybe we should just make a run for it.”

Without missing a beat, she took his hand and started jogging. “I like your style, McNally.”





Chapter 18



ROXY’S NERVES BUZZED as she and Louis stepped into his apartment. Unbelievable. She was actually nervous. Only a couple of hours ago, she’d done things to him that should have wiped her clean of any anxiety, but somehow the time they’d spent together tonight had only heightened it. She’d opened up to him, let him see a part of her she rarely exposed to anyone. That was why she suddenly felt like bolting. Now he knew exactly who he’d be touching, kissing. Hiding didn’t appear to be an option anymore, and that scared the hell out of her.

What scared her even more? It seemed as if her opening up had only served to interest him more. He hadn’t stopped touching her since they’d left their spots behind on the curb. His touches hadn’t all been sexual, though. A brush of his thumb across her bottom lip, a soft kiss at the nape of her neck . . . those weren’t touches she was used to. From Louis or anyone. She loved them a little too much, was starting to crave and expect them a little too soon.

Dammit, she hated this. Sex should be a spontaneous thing that doesn’t give either party time to stress out and overthink everything. Courthouse sex against a file cabinet, that was more her style. Not this perfect date bullshit followed by some preplanned lovemaking. Too many high expectations. Right, as if sex with Louis would be anything less than amazing. Still. The ritual of it made her jumpy.

Louis threw the dead bolt on his apartment door and came up behind her. Before he’d even touched her, an insistent pounding started in her chest. Her skin started to tingle. Where would he touch her first? She didn’t have a preference, as long as she could feel his hands on her body.

Her eyes popped open to find him standing in front of her, looking half concerned, half amused. “What’s going on in that head?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I disagree.”

Roxy blew out a breath. She’d already been honest with him once tonight, and it had gone okay, right? Might as well go for broke. At least it would stall until she got her stupid nerves under control. Or scare him off so she could go back to worrying only about herself. Which suddenly sounded terrible. Still . . . “Here’s my nightmare. You making some tired joke while opening a bottle of merlot. Us both drinking a glass, pretending like we care what the other person is saying when really we’re just killing time until the main event. You making some practiced move in order to kiss me. Cut to five minutes later, we’re doing it in the missionary position.”