by Piper Lennox
“We’re on top of the building, technically.”
“The easiest way to forget a bad memory,” I say, ignoring him, “is to make a new one.”
He looks back at me. I noticed that the minute we met: he rarely looks at you dead-on. Usually with his head tilted, or over his shoulder, or in side glances. Or maybe that’s just how he looks at me.
“Fine. But I call first drink.” His fingers hover near my skin, until I nudge my leg closer and press the outside of my thigh into his palm.
For a second, he holds it there.
“You don’t pull off garters with your hands.”
Another look, this one chiding. “I actually did, with my wi—” He catches himself and swallows, then lets out his breath instead of correcting himself.
I watch him carefully during this, trying to figure out where on the scale Levi falls. Ex-girlfriends, or even ex-fiancées, are worlds apart from ex-wives. There’s a lot of baggage with divorced guys, a fact I know, unfortunately, from experience.
They don’t tip the scales cleanly toward “Not Ready,” “Willing, But Still Not Ready,” or “Green Fucking Light.” There are too many gray zones in between, and a guy can bounce from one to the other at any point. You can’t know from a glance where they are, because you have to look at the overall trend. And I don’t know him well enough to do that.
Yet.
“All the more reason to use your teeth.” I lift my leg even higher. He can definitely see my underwear, but c’est la vie. That’s why I came up here in the first place, when I saw him duck out of the reception: Levi Fairfield is sexy, all the way down to his family tree. I want him.
His eyes dodge mine. When he finally looks back, I raise my eyebrow. This is a challenge. Not to prove anything to me, because frankly—I don’t care if he’s over his ex-wife.
But if he can have fun with someone else for a night, he can start to forget her. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times. In a way, my little rebound career performs a crucial public service.
The fact I get some fun out of it, too, without any strings? Let’s call it a bonus.
“I get the first two drinks,” he says, that soft, sideways smile telling me, loud and clear: Challenge Accepted.
His heartbeat’s visible in his neck. I notice his Adam’s apple bobbing the closer his mouth gets to my leg.
Lips first. Pressing, still, like a photograph of a kiss.
They part, and I feel the damp heat of his breath leaching through the lace.
His teeth graze the skin gently. He shuts his eyes, bites down into the fabric, and slowly pulls it down to my knee.
I could embarrass him if I wanted to, making him pull the garter all the way down to my ankle. And I kind of want to.
It’s cute, though, the way his eyes are shut and his hand clenches on the gritty rooftop. He’s dying to get lost in this, and it’s freaking him out.
“Nicely done,” I tell him, and pull my leg away so the garter and flask clatter at his feet.
Levi picks it up and unscrews the top. “I, uh...I get why so many guys prefer to use their mouths for that.”
I smile and sit up, taking the flask when he passes it over. It’s fairly small, maybe four ounces total, so I only take a sip before telling him to kill the last bit. He needs it more than I do.
“We should get downstairs before the big send-off.” Levi wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, eyes glazed over like he can see straight through the buildings in front of us.
I wait for him to stand so he can offer to help me. It’s a subtle trick, but one that always works. Almost as good as pretending to shiver.
About the Author
Piper Lennox is the author of the Love in Kona series, All Mine, and more. Her favorite heroes are broken; her favorite heroines are feisty (and, usually, also broken). Nothing fascinates her more than all the incredible ways two people can learn to save themselves...and each other.
Piper lives in Virginia with her husband, their three children, and a Siberian Husky too smart for his own good. Before she spent her days writing about life and love, she wrote copy for insurance companies. She will never, ever go back.
www.piperlennox.com
