When We Fall (Take the Fall, #2)(13)

“What do you want to experience the most?” she asks.

To be in your arms, your body…to possess you and never let anyone else touch you. “I want to travel—what else?” I take another drink of my beer.

“To where?”

“Anywhere, but I can’t right now. I can’t leave the f*cking states for another two years.”

“You should make plans anyway.”

“Seems like an exercise in futility.”

“Only if you know for a fact that you would never be able to go. When it comes to a lifetime, two years isn’t that long.” She fiddles with the salt and pepper shakers. “I can help you plan a trip. Be your tour guide.”

“You’ve changed,” I say.

Her pretty eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles. “Well, yes, I’m seven years older than when you last saw me. I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“No, not that.” I’d have to be a f*cking idiot not to notice she’s a woman. “You—you’re talkative.”

Immediately, she begins to stammer, “I—y-you…I thought we were having a really good conversation.”

“We are.” I scoot closer to her, so that our thighs are touching. “Baby, you just surprised me, is all. It wasn’t that long ago that you couldn’t actually carry on a conversation with me.”

“I’m trying to be more like,” she swallows again, “you, actually.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Though it’s a very bad idea, I brush the back of my hand along her soft cheek. Her lashes flutter and her chin tips up, lining her luscious lips perfectly with mine. “Be you, kitten.” I dip my head, fully intending to finally find out if she tastes as sweet as I’ve always imagined. “You are everything I—”

“Are you ready to order?”

Piper jumps, coming this close to banging my mouth with her forehead. The moment between us is lost. Discreetly adjusting myself, I glare at the waiter before turning to Piper.

“Ladies first.”

With a guilty look on her face, she orders and then I place mine as well. Silently, we hand over the menus and wait for him to leave. Now that the air has cleared between us somewhat, I can get our conversation back on track and ask her about what had been on her mind earlier this evening.

“Whose ass do I have to beat?”

Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“When you walked into the shop, you were upset.”

“Oh, that.” She looks away. “I have to talk to my parents.”

Gently grasping her chin, I turn her to face me. My thumb rubs against her bottom lip and her tongue darts out, touching the tip. Blood and desire rush straight to my cock, and I struggle to keep my cool. Before she can do any more to me with her tongue, I let go of her.

“Want to talk about it?”

“You’ll probably think my problems are silly.”

“Try me.”

She takes a deep breath, her gorgeous breasts rising and falling. “Either I get them to cosign a loan or pay for school, or I have to defer my classes until I can afford to pay. I don’t want to ask them for help, and even if I did want their help, they most likely won’t give it to me because I defied them by moving out.”

“You’re twenty-four, baby. Don’t they want you to get a life?”

A bitter smile covers her face. “Only the life that is acceptable to them.”

“What would that look like?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

“Trophy wife for Mark Williams,” she says softly. “A house in The Oaks, two kids, country club membership, and weekly charity events.”

There are very few people I hate in this life, but that f*ckwit Mark Williams ranks at the top of the list. He’s a privileged, entitled piece of shit who thinks that every woman is fair game—whether they want him or not.

Yet, guys like me—tatted up and with a rap sheet that doesn’t include domestic violence or sexual assault—would never be welcomed into their ranks, much less allowed to date their daughters.

“Did you want that kind of life before you rebelled?” I have to admit it takes guts to do what Piper did. She defied her parents, and for someone who not even a few months ago was afraid of her own shadow, that’s a big f*cking deal.

“I’ve never wanted that kind of life, but no one cares what I want,” she says, sounding so sad that I want to comfort her. To take her in my arms and swear to watch out for her always. It’s a sick obsession I have with her.

“I care,” I blurt before I can consider the ramifications.

Hope and wonder infuse her expression. She looks at me like I’ve just offered her the world, like I’m her knight in shining armor. Shit. I can’t have that.

“You do?” Slowly she places her hand over mine and squeezes lightly. “Then you know—you have to know—that I care about you, too. A lot.” She visibly swallows. “So much, Jase. I always have.”

I nod slowly, even as I know the words I’m about to utter will take that look of softness and hero worship out of her eyes for good. “Yeah, me, too. Why wouldn’t we care about each other—we’re like brother and sister. You were so good to me while I was in prison, sending care packages like you did.”