Meet Me Halfway(29)
Instead, I held my ground, tipping my head to keep eye contact, but he wasn’t looking at my face. His eyes focused on my neck, his jaw clenching before they snapped up, freezing me in place.
“You’re right.”
I dropped my gaze to his mouth, confirming that it had, indeed, opened to speak to me. “What?”
“You’re right. I’ve been an ass.”
I was transfixed by those fucking lips, watching the corner curl to create the beginning of a smirk and wasn’t at all paying attention to my own mouth. “Can I get that in writing? Maybe a nice note on my door?”
He chuckled, a dark rumbling sound that seemed to originate straight from his chest. The sound hadn’t even finished making love to my ears before I already wanted to hear it again.
“I’m sorry for accusing you—”
“Of being a jobless, privileged, high-maintenance bitch?” I smiled, batting my eyelashes and hoping he couldn’t hear the erratic pounding of my heart.
He rolled his lips in, dipping his head. I swore his eyes lit up, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was trying his damnedest not to smile.
I extended my hand. “Here, I’ll meet you halfway. I promise not to fuck you for money, and you promise to stop glaring at me like you hope I catch on fire.”
The second I uttered the words, I instantly wanted to rewind time and draw them back in. Holding my smile in place, I prayed my eyes didn’t give away my internal face palm.
He raised a single brow, grasping my outstretched hand and engulfing it with his own. His grip was firm, and the light scrape of callouses against my palm sent tingles straight to my core.
“You don’t enjoy a little heat, Madison?”
Fucking hell.
I was fairly certain I might have experienced a mini orgasm at the way his deep voice caressed along the syllables of my name, and it was shocking, to say the least. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had drawn a physical reaction from me to the point I’d begun to think there was something wrong with me.
I’d had sex when my ex wanted to, and I’d enjoyed it, but I’d never felt the rush of excitement or pleasure people described. I’d always had to sneak away afterward and finish the job myself. But I couldn’t deny the heat coiling up inside me at his words and the way he was looking at me.
I pursed my lips, pretending to contemplate his question. “Oh, I enjoy it, but I’ve found the best heat comes from my own fire, not from a man’s.”
His nostrils flared, his hand tightening around my own, and for a split second he seemed to shift forward. I tugged my hand out of his grasp, ice instantly replacing the warmth.
Teasing comments were all fun and games, but it would be wrong to lead him to believe it was anything more than that, especially when I’d just convinced him I wasn’t a gold-digging hoe.
The truth was, I wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone, and I didn’t do casual. Tucking my hands safely under my armpits, I shuffled back. “Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Garrett…?”
“Rowe.”
“Garrett Rowe. But I really do need to get to work. Friends?”
He tracked my retreat, dropping his clenched fist at his side and inclining his head in a half-nod of acknowledgment.
“Friends.”
Chapter Nine
Grocery shopping was the devil’s favorite activity. It was like my own personal hell cloaked in elevator music and cereal boxes. If somebody told me they enjoyed it, I would instantly assume, with no hesitation, they were secretly a serial killer.
I hated it with a passion, and that hatred only escalated when I moved out on my own and had to apply for assistance. Because it didn’t matter how well I dressed or how sweet I was, the second I pulled out my EBT card, people’s mannerisms changed.
It was degrading and frustrating. Purchase a frozen meal because it costs less than five dollars? I’m a lazy parent. Apply for assistance to afford ingredients for a homemade meal? I’m abusing the system. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
So, suffice to say, by the time Jamie and I loaded up the Jeep and left the store, I was close to losing my shit. Turning up his music—which was an orchestra playing some video game theme song—I focused on the lingering echo of ignorant looks and comments. I allowed myself a full sixty seconds to stress, over-analyze, and second-guess myself, then I shoved it the fuck out of my head.
Pulling up to the house, I glanced in the rearview mirror, planning to ask Jamie what sides he wanted with dinner tonight, only to be met with a lolling head and gaping mouth. The kid was out cold. I parked, pushing open the door as silently as I could.
Jamie had stopped napping years ago, so for him to crash just while driving across town, he had to be thoroughly wiped. Hopefully he’d be able to nap a few more minutes while I unloaded the Jeep.
Layla was due to be home soon, and she’d have no problem poking at him and re-energizing his mood. She’d been gone a lot lately, playing music with the guy she “wasn’t dating” so Jamie would be thrilled we were both home.
I was excited for the evening because I’d gotten ahead in my classes over the past week and didn’t have to do more than read over a few articles tonight. I’d be able to relax and just enjoy hanging out.