Beautiful? Baffled, I twisted my neck to look at him.
His knuckles were crushing the steering wheel, eyes so fiercely blue they could have turned the world to ice if he stared long enough. “It takes a brutally empty heart to abandon someone.”
There was a ringing in my ears. I couldn't stop staring at his tight frown. He agreed with me? Why would a guy who sleeps around care about anyone's feelings?
The traffic moved, jostling us both. Blinking my fog away, I looked at the CD player. Reaching over, I tapped the buttons until a song I liked began to play. I think he was stealing glances at me as I did it, but I didn't have the guts to check.
We said nothing more until he pulled up outside of my apartment.
“Here we are,” I said. “Thanks for the lift.” Climbing free, I slammed the door. I had to get away from that bubble of him. The whole car was packed with his essence; warm and intoxicating.
A second car door clapped shut. Abell had hopped out, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “I could use some coffee, do you have any?”
With wide eyes, I looked at him in disbelief. “You're not coming inside.”
“Sure I am.”
“No, you're not.” Shaking my head briskly, I walked towards the steps. “Why would I invite you inside?”
Abell followed behind me closely. “You saw the inside of my place, it's called fairness.”
“Excuse me?”
“Fairness, you know, when—”
“I know what fairness is.” Scowling, I dug my keys out of my pocket, unlocking the door. “People don't trade home visits like dinner checks.”
He put a hand on the wall, leaning there. “They should. The world would be a friendlier place.”
I didn't want to get 'friendlier' with Abell Birch. Yanking my door open, I gave him a warning glare. He just smiled back at me. The guy could smile his way out of a knife fight.
Hovering over me, he said, “If you make us some coffee, I'll count it as our date.”
On some level, I was aware that I owed this man nothing. But I liked to keep my word, and I had promised him a date if we saw each other again. If we do this now, I can get it over with. He'll have no leverage over me.
Analyzing him, I said, “You're incredibly determined.”
“You have no idea.”
Pausing, I waved him inside. “Fine. One cup of coffee.” Why did that sound familiar?
Just one drink.
Right. I'd been trying so hard to run away from all of the stress and frustration in my life last night, that I'd kept drinking with Abell. It had been spontaneous—tempting. The adrenaline high from standing up to the attempted rape, then Abell's blatant flirting... I don't know.
He'd just made the idea of running from my stress, just for one night, so appealing.
I'd let it go too far, but that wouldn't happen again. Coffee was safe, no one hooked up on coffee dates.
Did they?
Dropping my jacket onto the couch, I set my keys on the granite counter-top of my kitchen island. My place was the perfect size, in my opinion, for someone like me. I didn't have parties, I owned no pets, so I needed very little.
Most of my time was spent at work.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, setting up the coffee maker. The scent of the grinds filled my nose, making me smile.
Abell unzipped his jacket, but that was the extent of his 'getting comfortable.' “Nice place, your parents pay for it?”
Stunned, I nearly dropped the mug I'd picked up. “That's a little forward.”
“That's what you find forward?” Leaning on the fridge, he crossed his ankles.
“Money-talk should only happen between friends, and we're not even acquaintances, Abell.”
“After letting me bury my fingers in your sweet pussy, we're beyond acquainted.”
I was on fire, my kitchen too small, too hot suddenly. “Yes, my parents pay for this.”
“I'm guessing they pay for everything.”
Shaking my head, I propped against the sink across from him. “I work for my money, they don't pay for everything.”
He cracked his knuckles, watching me in his intense way. “It's their company, technically, whatever they pay you belongs to them.”
Lines pulled over my forehead. “If you want to be precise, your dad owns their company, now.” My blunt observation hung in the air. The only sound was the constant percolating of the coffee machine.
Abell breathed in slowly, as if he was thinking about what to say. “Yeah. I guess he does. But he won't, if you do what he's asked.”
Laughing louder than I meant, I pulled the pot of coffee off the burner, filling the two mugs I'd placed nearby. “You act like it's so simple.”
“Isn't it? Think about how your life will change if you don't marry me.”
“It'll change no matter what I choose.” I motioned for him to step aside so I could get into the fridge. When he did, I pulled out a carton of heavy cream. “Your motivation is really obvious, Abell. You said you want to keep living your life as King of the Playboys.”
Grinning, he waved away my offer of cream, sipping the black coffee. “That's not how I phrased it. Why do you make it sound so awful, what's wrong with sex?”
Pouring enough of the white liquid into my mug to turn the coffee pale, I said, “Nothing.” My cheeks burned, the discussion making me uneasy. “Sex is fine. But sex with all those people you don't even know? How can that be satisfying?”
“You didn't know me. Wasn't it satisfying for you?”
Looking deep into my cup, I eyed my own reflection. Yes. It really was. But I couldn't admit that, so I just took a large mouthful of my coffee instead.
“How much cream do you like?” he asked, clearly noticing how I'd drained the container.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “A lot, copious amounts.”
His lips split into an angled grin. “Naughty girl.”
“A jizz joke?” I laughed lightly. “If you're trying to get me flustered, you'll have to try harder.”
Angling his head like a hawk, Abell set his cup down on the counter. Slowly, with purpose, he rounded the kitchen island until he was standing over me. On reflex I backed up, my thighs bumping the sink.
I was trapped.
“You shouldn't give me instructions,” he whispered, fingers circling my wrist just below my mug. “I'm the kind of guy that will listen. Telling me what I need to do to make you blush is dangerous.”
My mouth was suddenly dry, I couldn't even remember the taste of my drink. Abell ruled my senses.
I could see where his eyelashes connected with the hooded lids of his heated eyes. I could even see the tiny lines across his perfectly smirking lips. We were too close, and I knew it, but my brain was firing wrong.
Stop this, I told myself, Don't let him get to you.
I had wanted to go home and think. There was so much riding on me, and I hadn't had the time to process it fairly.
Abell was showing me he knew exactly how to take over my mind. His nearness was as good as a typhoon, demanding my attention and roaring that if I stayed or if I ran, the result would be the same.
He would consume me.
“Nix,” he said under his breath.
“Y—yeah?”
Smiling slowly, he ran his thumb in a circle around the underside of my wrist. “You're spilling coffee everywhere.”
Glancing down, I saw that my floor was shining from the constant drip of my drink. Unconsciously, I'd been tipping it as I leaned towards Abell. I shook myself, realizing I'd been inches away from kissing him. I knew he'd taste like the tang of fresh brewed coffee. He'd be delicious, he'd—Stop!
Reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed my mug and set it on the sink. Then, I peeled at his fingers; he let me go reluctantly. “Abell, no, we aren't doing this.”