Studying him, I find that figuring out his age is a toss-up. He can’t be much older than me, but he doesn’t dress like any of the young men I’ve met on campus. They’re all buttoned up and straight-laced.
But Ace? He’s all hard edges and quick, flirty grins. From the way the casual way his suit jacket lays on top of his black button-down to the unfussed styling of his thick, sandy hair, I can tell he’s different than any of the men in this room.
But that’s not something that discourages me, the way it would other girls I know.
I crave it.
I like all the ways he’s different. I like the way his sandy-colored hair shags and tumbles into his eyes. I like the way his jaw isn’t clean-shaven and smooth like Noah’s.
His expression mirrors mine, studying, reading, assessing. His eyes roam over my face and my body again and again in a way that not only tells me he’s interested, but that he’s invested.
And I can honestly say that no man has ever looked at me like that before.
Sure, guys stare. They gawk because I come across differently than the other women they’ve met. I’m exotic, I’m flavorful. And a lot of them want a taste.
A piece of me that I’ve never even been tempted to give.
Because I know that after it’s over, they’d throw me away like the nearest piece of trash.
Deep sown I know all signs point to the fact that Ace will, too. But with Ace, I can’t fight the draw between us, even though the word danger is scribbled all over his beautiful packaging.
“Tell me something true.” I pull the bottle from my lips, licking the drop of sugary sweetness that escapes and lands on my mouth.
He follows the trail of my tongue with his eyes, making a shiver roll through my body.
When he looks up again, curiosity reigns in his expression. He conveys so much with those eyes of his. Does he realize how much he gives away?
“Anything true?” His smile is hesitant, like he doesn’t want to give over his secrets.
I don’t blame him for holding them close to the vest. I plan to do the exact same thing.
Lifting one shoulder and dropping it, I nod. “Anything.”
“I think your boyfriend probably has a limp dick.”
Riotous laughter bursts from me before I can stop it. Glancing at the table, he reaches out and clamps a warm hand over my mouth, and I almost stop breathing. A jolt of electricity travels from where he touches me to all the most tender parts of me, and I suppress the urge to lick his hand.
Lick his hand? What the hell is wrong with me?
“Shhh.” His eyes flick toward the craps table, where none of the guys playing have even looked up. “Not ready to give you back yet.”
He slides his hand from my mouth and back toward his body, the movement slow and precise. I regret not tasting him.
Ace’s eyes turn stormy as he reads what’s written in mine. “Your turn.”
“Turn?” Ripping my eyes from his perfect lips, I focus on his steady gaze. “For…?”
Smirking, he leans forward just a tiny bit. “Tell me something true, Naima.”
Oh, wow. My name, from those lips? Holy shit.
Giving myself a mental shake, I square my shoulders and look him in the eye. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Everything happening around us stops.
Silence.
Clamor.
All at the same time.
Ace and I focus on nothing but each other. He draws closer, closer, closer.
“Hey.”
Noah’s voice snaps me out of whatever trance Ace conjures with those green eyes and full lips. My gaze flicks to where Noah now stands, in front of the high-top bar. He looks pissed. My instincts tell me to take a step back from Ace, but it’s the last thing I want to do and my feet stay rooted in place.
Ace doesn’t move a muscle, keeping his gaze on me. But he speaks. “Can we help you?”
Noah stands taller, his expression incredulous. “Uh, yeah. Want to take a step back from my girl, man?”
His tone challenges, but Ace doesn’t even blink. “Naima? Are you his girl?”
My glance flickers between Ace and Noah. Bryn steps up beside Noah, her hand clasping Jaxon’s. Jackson places a hand on Noah’s shoulder, presumably to calm him. But Noah moves to step around the bar, his eyes nailing Ace to the wall behind us.
Ace still doesn’t move; he’s granite, a statue frozen in the moment. Only focused on me.
Glancing at my friend, the concern in Bryn’s eyes should warn me away.
But it doesn’t.
“No.” My voice is clear. “I’m not.” I walk around Ace, around the bar. Squeezing Bryn in a quick hug, I whisper. “I’m okay.”
She nods, trusting me to make my own decisions.
“Thanks for the ride, Noah. But I’m good. Ace will take me home.” I glance over at the man in question. “Right, Ace?”
Nodding, he rests his elbows on the bar, the intent look in his eyes never wavering even as his lips curve upward. “That’s for damn sure something true.”
Sheer disbelief breaks across Noah’s face as his lips curl in disgust. “Seriously, Ny? Him?” He jerks a thumb toward Ace like he’s a lesser being, like me choosing to stay with him is the biggest mistake of my life.
I open my mouth at the same time Ace straightens and speaks. “Word of advice: next time you take a woman out, pay more attention to her than your craps game.”
Noah jerks like he’s been punched, and then takes a step back. Throwing up his hands, he turns and stalks toward the door. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.”
“Hey!” Bryn slaps Jaxon’s arm, glaring up at him. “Don’t let him talk about my best friend like that.”
Clearly torn, Jaxon stares between his retreating best friend and his furious girlfriend.
Saving him, I wave a hand at Bryn. “It’s okay. He’s pissed, but he’ll get over it soon. Go, B. Call you tomorrow.”
With one final glance at me, she strides out
