Mister O(68)

Maybe I should take another swing.

“Should we hail a cab?” I ask, thrusting a hand in the air. “Sometimes they come faster here than Uber.”

“Good idea. Especially since everything ran late after the party.”

An image flashes before my eyes of her working the kid’s party. “Where’s your cape?”

She pats the bag. “It’s in here.”

“You do wear a cape for your shows, right?”

She nods and smiles. “I do.”

A bolt of lust slams into me. I can’t help myself. I blurt out, “I bet you look insanely hot in a cape and nothing else.”

“Generally, I don’t wear my cape with nothing else,” she says.

I raise an eyebrow. “Would you for me?”

“I would,” she says, as the yellow cab arrives. I open the door and slide in after her. The door slamming rings in my ears, and it hits me. The game’s not over until the final at bat.

“Can we talk about the elephant in the cab?”

Her eyes light up. “Sure.”

I point my thumb behind us, in Simon’s direction. “English. You’ve acquired full use of the language around Simon.”

She nods happily. “I’m cured, evidently. Your lessons eradicated my little affliction.”

“Oh,” I say, my heart sinking as I strike out on pitch one. Guess that means she can behave normally around guys she likes. “We got rid of Princess Awkward. I’m gonna miss her though,” I say, trying to keep the mood light.

“Yeah, me too,” she says, sighing wistfully, then flashing a huge I’ve-got-a-secret grin. “But that’s not the only reason I’m cured,” she says, and wraps her hand on my arm.

I hate that sparks fly inside me from that touch. I wish they’d stop. “What’s the other reason?”

She shrugs happily and squeezes my bicep. “I don’t like him anymore. In fact, when he asked me out for coffee last weekend via text, I turned him down.”

And we’re back in business. Angels sing. The heavens burst open. Candy rains down from the sky.

“That so?” I ask, the corner of my lips twitching up in a grin.

“That is so,” she says, all sexy and naughty and inviting. “The reason I was running late, as you probably ascertained, is that I helped clean up so we could talk about my friend Abby, since he needs a new nanny for Hayden. His ex-wife is hardly around at all, and he does most of the parenting. He bought me a coffee to say thanks.”

“I did ascertain that. I also think it’s incredibly hot that you just dropped a crossword-puzzle word into casual conversation.”

“I did it because I knew you’d like it,” she says, and runs her fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. Those sparks? They don’t just fly. They torpedo across my skin. They race through me. They live inside me with this girl. I’m so far gone for her, it’s ridiculous.

How did I ever think I could just let her walk away? I can’t, no matter who her brother is. I’ll just have to sort out that little snag another time.

“I like it. I also really like that you’re not into him,” I say, as I lean my head back into her hand, turning my face to meet her gaze.

“Why does that make you glad?” She inches closer to me as the cab swings around the corner, nearing the train station.

“Because I’m a greedy bastard, and I want you to myself,” I say, and it’s not a full-on admission of all that I feel, but it’s a start, and that’s how I’m going to have to take things with her. Step by step.

“You have me. Don’t you know that? I couldn’t do the things we’ve done in bed and feel that way about anyone else. I swear, Nick, I haven’t felt a thing for him since well before the night you kissed me. Since well before I sent you the pencils. Since before the laundry detergent, even. And I never ever felt a thing for Jason.”

My heart thumps hard against my chest, fighting its way to her. “I f*cking loved it when you gave me laundry detergent,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving hers.

“I thought I wasn’t your type. That you preferred older women,” she says, on a whisper.

I shake my head, heat spreading across my skin. “My type is you,” I say, and her blue irises glow with excitement, maybe even a wild kind of happiness.

“You’re my predilection,” she says, a little flirty, and f*ck, now I’m even more turned on, and feeling like I can walk on water.

The cab squeals to a stop at the train station, and I thrust some bills through the window. I get out with her.

“I need to catch a train or I’ll be late,” she says, her tone full of longing.

“Come over when you’re back.”

“I get back really late tomorrow.”

“I don’t care how late it is. I want to see you.”

“I want to see you, too.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Why did you want me to take you to the train station?”

Her lips quirk up. “Because I f*ck seeing you.”

I crack up. “Harper Holiday, I f*ck seeing you, too.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and kiss her. This kiss is different. It’s as hot as all of them have ever been, but there’s something intangible in it, too, a quality that digs down deep into my chest, that burrows into my bones. An inevitability, and unlike last night, it doesn’t feel like the end. It feels like a promise of more to come.