And despite his death line, I want to.
I can’t exactly be turned off by what he said … as I said the exact same thing.
Maybe Jack hasn’t attracted the attention of a serial murderer, like me, but he was in the military.
People die at the hands of soldiers. And soldiers die at the hand of war. Many, many lives are lost because of war.
And Jack was stationed in Syria, where a war was happening.
It would be a surprise to me if that wasn’t what he meant when he made that statement.
And my gut tells me that Jack is nothing like Tobias.
Nothing in the way he behaves gives any indication that he’s a total psycho.
Not that I ever knew Tobias. I said hello to him a couple of times, and that was it.
How scary is it that a man I didn’t even know terrorized and changed my life forever?
Nope. I refuse to let my mind veer down that path tonight.
I’ve had a nice time with Jack.
I’m not letting my past take that from me as well.
Jack steers his bike into his usual parking spot outside of our building and turns off the engine.
Holding on to Jack’s arms, I clamber off the bike and manage to undo and get the helmet off for the first time on my own, pulling the beanie off with it.
I retrieve it from the inside of the helmet and offer it back to Jack.
Climbing off the bike with his usual grace, he takes it from me and puts it in the helmet bag along with his own helmet.
“What should I do with this one?” I ask him.
“Keep it,” he tells me.
“Keep it?”
“Yeah. It’s yours. I bought it for you.”
“But …”
His hand cups my cheek, his thumb resting over my lips. “It’s yours.” He smiles. “It’s my way of making sure you ride with me again one day.”
I’ll ride you if you want.
Jesus, Audrey.
Since when did I turn into a sex-starved nympho?
Since Jack, apparently.
“Okay.” It’s my turn to smile. “Well, thank you.”
“No thanks needed.” He stares at me. His eyes darken. It … looks like he wants to kiss me.
I want him to kiss me.
I already know what it feels like to have Jack’s lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, and I want to feel it again.
So very frigging badly.
I would normally lick my lips, giving him the indication that I want what I think he wants, too, if it didn’t mean I would lick his thumb still resting against my lips. And licking his thumb would just be way too weird, even for me.
So, I try to convey with my eyes that I want him to remove his thumb and replace it with his lips.
Snowflakes start to fall again.
Jack blinks and then glances up at the sky. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
He removes his hand from my face, and my skin instantly goes cold.
I try not to sigh at the loss of both his hand and the kiss that never happened.
Why didn’t he kiss me just then?
Did I get that moment wrong?
Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me at all, and it was all in my head.
Or maybe I did actually manage to put him off me throughout the course of this date.
Well, talking about death over dinner would do it.
The pang of disappointment that hits my gut is hard, and it tells me everything I need to know about how I feel about this fact.
Well, I have no one to blame but myself, and it’s probably for the best.
And I’ll be sure to convey that message to my libido when I’m lying in bed later tonight. Horny and alone.
For a girl who doesn’t want to feel anything anymore, especially not for a man, I’m doing a shit-as-hell job of keeping my hormones and emotions in check.
Jack holds open the door to our building, allowing me through first. We walk up the stairs in silence.
The quiet between us is beginning to put me on edge. Not knowing what he’s thinking. Not knowing what he’s going to say.
Is he just going to walk me to my door, thank me for a nice evening, and then walk away?
Ugh. Getting given the good-night handshake is going to be the worst.
But in the end, it’d be the right thing.
This thing with Jack would be a disaster.
I’m a disaster. Hence the reason that I’ve spent the last six months distancing myself from everyone around me. Having a person in my life would not be a good idea. Especially not a man like Jack.
I’m pretty much resigned by the time we reach my apartment door.
I tug off my gloves, get my keys from my pocket, and unlock the door.
Facing him, my fingers curled around the handle, I say, “So … thanks for today. I had fun.”
“Me too,” he says, holding my stare.
I press down on the handle, opening the door. “Well, good night then.”
“Audrey.” The low baritone in his voice sends a shiver hurtling through my body.
I turn back to him.
“That’s not how this date ends.”
My heart starts to pitter-patter in my chest. “No?”
“No.”
He steps into my space, and I suck in a breath.
“So … how does it end?”
Jack takes my head in his hands, tilting my face up to his. “It doesn’t. It starts with a kiss.”
He covers my lips with his.
It’s like a bomb detonates around us, the force shoving us together.
There is something electric between Jack and me. Something confusing and scary and exhilarating.
Something I don’t know how to control. How to stop. Or if I even want to.
I have never wanted anyone the way I want him.
My fingers thread into his hair. He groans against my mouth.
I press my body to his in response.
His tongue slides between my lips, into my mouth, and all of my synapses fry.
Distantly, I hear the click of a door opening. Then, I’m moving backward.
Jack picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist.
The door shuts, and
