“We didn’t even make it to the bed.”
Makoa laughed, brushing the hair from my face before he leaned up to kiss me, long and soft, maybe even a little too sweet for my taste.
But with him?
It didn’t feel so weird.
“Well, let’s fix that.”
Makoa was up off the floor before I could register to do the same, and he picked me up easily, cradling me in his arms and walking me back through his condo to his bedroom. He laid me down in the plush, cool sheets, and I let out a sigh as he carefully removed my heels, one by one, letting them fall to the floor.
“Wow,” I said, stretching out and wiggling my freshlyfreed toes. I didn’t have to look to know I had blisters from the rain and the straps. “These sheets are what happen when velvet and silk have a baby.”
Makoa laughed.
“Seriously. Come here. This is heaven.”
“No, being inside you was heaven,” he argued, taking the spot next to me before he rolled over to perch his head on one arm. The other drew circles on my stomach, and I purred like a kitten at the touch.
For a long while, we lay just like that, the only sound that of the city still alive outside in the distance. It was dark, save for the city lights outside the windows and the few we’d managed to flick on in the main living area streaming through the hallway.
I watched Makoa’s eyes as they roamed over me, like he was a painter studying me for his next project. His fingers followed where his eyes were, and I wondered if he was memorizing every inch.
Maybe it was the rain, the way he’d looked running in it, the way he’d tried to shield me from it, the way he’d watched me in wonder when I’d laughed once we safely made it inside that restaurant. Maybe it was how easy the conversation flowed through dinner, or how making his condo a home was the only thing I could focus on, or how every time I looked at him I had a new question to ask, and every time he looked at me, I felt like the only woman in the world. Maybe it was how he’d called me his lady, and as cheesy as it was, it’d done something to my stomach, to my heart, maybe even to my soul.
Maybe it was Moulin Rouge!, the music and lights and colors. Maybe it was Satine’s words in my ear, whispering, taunting.
Why else live if not for love?
I could blame a million different things for the way my heart beat loud in my chest there in that bed, in Makoa’s arms, but I knew one thing for certain.
I couldn’t walk away from him.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.
And that was a very, very bad thing.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat, tracing his tattoos as he traced the curves of my body. I was just about to ask him what one of them meant when he sighed, sweeping my hair back from my face.
“You’re so far from any woman I’ve ever known.”
I smiled, leaning into the touch. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I’m just… I’m blown away with how you handled tonight. The rain, the restaurant.”
“Those pierogies were like little potato puffs of heaven.”
He laughed. “They were, but… I expected this high-end restaurant. And for us to both be dry and warm.”
“Gotta roll with the punches,” I said on a shrug. Then, I tapped his shoulder. “And you need to do better Google searches.”
Makoa laughed. “That, I do.” He shook his head, still watching me in awe.
And then, he said the worst thing he could have possibly said.
“You’re such a good time.”
My heart stopped, stuck in the grimy mud of what that line insinuated as Makoa kissed my forehead and popped out of bed.
“I’m going to take a shower. Wanna join?”
I shook my head, but he was already in the bathroom, the water running. I cleared my throat and forced out a croaky, “No, I’m okay.”
A good time.
You’re such a good time.
His words played on repeat in my head, over and over, again and again. I played them in every pitch, heard them as I thought back over the night, over our last few dates.
I’d read it all wrong.
All this time, even when I’d warned myself not to, I’d leaned into the possibility that maybe… just maybe… I was wrong. Maybe Gemma and Zach were right. Maybe Makoa wanted more. Maybe he was different. Maybe he was about to prove that I wasn’t broken, damaged, washed up and only good for one thing.
And then as soon as he’d had me, he’d said the same words Nathan had all those years ago.
You’re so far from any woman I’ve ever known.
AKA, you’re not like the girls I take home to meet my family.
You’re such a good time.
AKA, I really like fucking you, we should do that again.
We should do just that again.
I was such a tight bundle of anxiety that I didn’t think to get dressed and get the hell out of Makoa’s place until he was out of the shower and climbing back into bed with me. He pulled me into his chest, curling around me like a cat, and all the while, I stared out the windows wondering how I could have ever been so stupid to believe he would be any different.
I was a fool, a hungry little fool who ate into every line he fed me.
And because I’d believed in him, in the possibility of him, I was already hurt.
This was why I held up my guard. This was why I never entertained the option of being more than just the good-time girl.
This was why I had a firm three-date rule.
I blew out a long
