I bite my lip. “I think I already fell.”
“So, tell Locke how you feel.” Molly grins. “Not to be cliché, but you should lock that thing down.”
I groan at her pun. For some reason, telling him feels even more dangerous than saying nothing at all. We’re walking this precarious line of not talking about it, and if we do, there’s always the chance that Locke won’t want the same thing I do.
He likes me. He really likes me. That much is clear. But does he want to be my boyfriend? Nothing in his history suggests he’s into long-term commitment.
“What if saying something ruins everything?” I whisper. A flutter of nerves tugs at my stomach, and my phone slides in my sweaty grip. If I thought my breakup was bad with Damien, who I only sort of cared about, how would I handle losing Locke, who I love?
“You’re not going to ruin things, Greer.” Molly draws her phone closer to her face and puts on her wise, I know what I’m talking about face. “Just because you haven’t hit a home run yet doesn’t mean this time you won’t. You and Locke have a solid foundation, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
I think of Locke in the bookstore and the way his hand felt brushing my knee. I think of him kissing me in my kitchen and telling me about his dad. About the way he looks when he’s buried deep inside me, so utterly and hopelessly gone.
And here’s the thing—maybe love doesn’t have to be hard. Maybe it can be easy, the way it is with Locke. Because this feeling is unlike anything I’ve ever known. Locke and I just make sense. We fit. And for the first time, I wonder if maybe I deserve it, too.
Molly waits for me to say something, and I finally crack and say, “Sure.”
“Tell him how you feel at the party,” she suggests. “Put on a gorgeous dress and make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Hope stirs in my chest, and I feel myself give in to her relentless optimism. “You think it’s really that easy?”
My friend looks me in the eye and I can feel her love from an ocean away. “I think you won’t know unless you try.”
22
Locke
I cut the engine of my car in the parking lot of The Foundry, the venue for tonight’s WanderWell holiday party.
“You sure this is the right place?” Greer casts a skeptical glance at the overpass above the dusty parking lot. We’d passed through the back alley of a bunch of industrial buildings to get here, and the clouds blotting out light from the moon don’t help with the sketchy exterior.
I grin at her. “This is the place. Might not look like much from the outside, but they make it look really nice inside.”
“Well, since I trust you and all…” She glances at the building again. “It’s a quick dash to the door. I’m going to leave my coat here so I don’t have to deal with it later.”
“Go for it.” I’m eager to see what Greer has on underneath her coat since she met me in the parking lot of her apartment building with her outerwear already on.
She shrugs out of her coat, and I feel my mouth go dry. A long, silky emerald dress clings to her beautiful curves, showcasing the dip of her waist and the rise of her breasts. The halter top enhances her toned arms, and the plunging neckline drops so low as to almost be scandalous but stops just short of revealing too much skin. Her hair falls in sleek waves down her back, and the mascara on her long eyelashes makes her sparkling eyes look bottomless.
I suck in my breath at the sight of her. “God, Greer, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
She gives me a shy smile. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
I lean across the center console and slant my mouth over hers, capturing her and claiming her. Drowning in her taste.
Greer moans into my mouth and reaches for me, bracing one hand on my chest. With the other hand, she reaches for my hair and tugs, sending tingles racing from my scalp down my spine.
She kisses me back breathlessly, and there’s no place in the world I’d rather be than here in this car, just the two of us. Any of our coworkers could walk by and see us, but I don’t care. All I want is her.
I pull back just far enough to look in Greer’s eyes. “Careful,” I growl, “or I’m not going to want to leave the car.”
She grins against my mouth. “That’s kind of the point.” She lowers her head to my neck and brushes her gorgeous lips over my skin.
My cock throbs in anticipation.
“Greer.” My voice comes out thick and strained. “Another minute and we’re not going to have a choice in the matter.”
Scratch that. In thirty seconds, I’m going to have a hard-on that my suit won’t be able to hide.
She groans and then bites her lip. “Later?” she whispers.
Fuck, yes. There’s nothing I want more. “Later,” I promise.
She sighs and returns to her side of the car, then reaches a hand for the handle of the car. “Ready?” she asks.
“Ready.”
As she opens the door, cold air whips into the car, and Greer laughs and launches herself into the night.
I follow her, plunging outside and reaching for her hand. Together we race for the entrance, pulling open the heavy wooden doors and stumbling inside, laughing.
“Wow.” Greer stops short just inside the door, taking in the festive decor in the venue. High, lofted ceilings lend the place a modern, industrial vibe that’s warmed by twinkling holiday lights, fabric draped over the walls, and multiple Christmas trees scattered throughout the space. Even the stairs leading to the event’s greeter are lined with glowing candles in glass hurricanes.
“Told you it’d be good.”
I offer Greer my arm, and she takes it to balance herself as we climb
