Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Yes.” A giggle jumps from my throat. “But feel free to shower me with as many compliments as you like.”
“Well, then I must say how witty you also are.” He smiles again, and just like that, we ease into a friendly banter that makes me hopeful.
Hopeful that I’m where I’m supposed to be.
Hopeful that tonight will be a good night.
Hopeful that the dream of someone else—of finding someone to share my life with one day—won’t be a shriveled-up memory ten years from now.
Hopeful that I won’t find myself longing after the missed shots I should have taken with Noah Philips or Gavin Evans or anyone else.
“Thank you for dinner. Tonight was really fun,” I say as Gavin places his hand at the small of my back and guides me out of the restaurant.
When I say it was a good time, I mean it.
Gavin was charming and funny, and the conversation felt easier than it has ever been between us. At least on my end, I finally found some flow. We laughed and flirted and teased each other about the temperatures of our steaks—his rare and mine well-done—and I felt more like myself than I have in a long time.
Instead of worrying over the boys or feeling completely inept at dating or drowning myself in thoughts of relationships with unavailable men, I felt normal.
Like a woman who, even though she’s a single mom, can have a personal life too.
“It goes without saying that I enjoyed it too,” Gavin comments as he holds open the door for me to walk outside. “Any time spent with you is treasured.”
Sometimes, I can’t decide if he’s tossing lines my way or if he’s just really good at delivering compliments, but for tonight’s purposes, I’m not going to worry about it.
I laugh instead, patting a hand to his chest in thanks. Unexpectedly, he grips my hips with both hands and pulls me closer to him.
My heart rate spikes uneasily. The pressure of his fingertips is faintly unnerving.
We’re on the sidewalk, right in the middle of a crowded public setting, but with the way Gavin stares deep into my eyes, his gaze flitting to my lips, I feel like we’re alone.
Tucked there, in a crucial, delicate moment, my mind goes to the one place it shouldn’t—Noah.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Gavin says, his voice a throaty whisper, just before pressing his mouth against mine. His lips are firmer than I imagined they’d be, even though his aggression is soft and slow. His hands migrate up my back and over my shoulders and find their way into the locks of my hair, and the kiss turns heated. At least, on his end.
A groan escapes his throat, and his tongue slips past my lips and mingles with mine.
Something about it doesn’t feel right at all.
“Spend the night with me,” he whispers against my mouth, breaking the kiss just enough that I find the space to scoot back six inches or so. “Come back to my hotel and stay with me.”
“I…I don’t think—” I start to reject, but he’s too busy gliding his hands down my back and gripping my ass to notice my lack of confirmation. He kisses me deeply again, sliding his tongue past my lips and using his hold on my ass to pull my body flush against his.
Why in the hell does rabid attention from a sexy guy like Gavin feel so off? Why can’t I just enjoy it?
“So, yes?” he questions, and I can feel his mouth quirk up into a smile against my lips. “You’ll spend the night with me.”
The presumptive words are finally enough to give me the strength to pull away. Because for as many questions as I have about the whys of how I’m feeling, I don’t have to question how I’m feeling at all.
I’m not ready to sleep with Gavin Evans.
I place a hand to his chest and take a step back away from him, putting distance between us. His mouth turns down at the corners while his eyes examine mine, and I know that I need to be honest with myself and him.
“Gavin, I don’t know. I just…I don’t think I can do that.” I’m vaguer than I intend to be, but I imagine it’s because of my nerves.
“Would you rather we go back to your place?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that either.”
His brow pinches in confusion. “What are you saying?”
Tell him the truth.
“I’m saying that I can’t spend the night with you,” I answer genuinely but gently. “I’m just not ready for that yet.”
“Yet? We’ve been on three dates, Sammy. Not to mention, we talk and text all the time. I really thought we were getting somewhere.”
I don’t know what to say to him. I can’t even explain my emotions to myself, let alone him. The only words that come out are, “I’m sorry.”