it, a voice interrupts my lovely daydream.
“Do I need to have that sheriff’s deputy come over here and sit next to us? Because that look on your face says you’re considering something illegal. Whatever it is, let’s go ahead and assume it won’t be worth it.”
Cody lifts a brow as he sits down in the chair next to mine, warning me to stand down with his expression. I curl my lip and look away from the chair hogs. The chairs aren’t the issue here, I know that. The room seats a hundred and there are maybe twenty people here, so we can all use as many chairs as we like. But that’s not the point. The point is… nothing probably. Other than how I hate everything about Haley Lacrosse, no matter what she’s doing.
I fidget with the cuffs on my jacket, cursing the way Cody refuses to dress up for these things, yet I always feel the need to show up looking like an alternate reality version of myself. He’s wearing what he wore to the shop today, a part of beat-up cargo pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here in a conservative pantsuit that makes me look like a news anchor—and makes me feel like a fraud.
“I’ll be good,” I mutter. I look over my shoulder toward the doors. “Where’s Dad?”
“He was in his truck when I pulled up. Seat tilted back, eyes closed. I didn’t bother knocking on the glass or anything.”
I take a long, slow breath. Seriously? He’s taking a nap? That seems to be his favorite thing to do these days, but doing so tonight takes his indifference to a completely new level. I’d never call my dad lazy because I know better, but lately it’s as if he can’t summon up motivation for anything. I glance at my phone and clench my teeth. The meeting starts in five minutes and he’s the owner. We need him here.
I twist in my chair and glance at the doorway again, deciding that if he doesn’t walk through those doors in the next thirty seconds, I’m going out there to get him. Cody elbows me gently in the side and whispers that we can handle this, then mutters something about how I should let Dad be. I only hear half of what he says though. Because instead of seeing Dad walk through the door, I see Alec.
My mouth goes dry. Not only was I not expecting to see Alec tonight, it’s also the first time I’ve seen him since Saturday night. The same night he said things I wasn’t quite prepared to hear and then kissed me in a way I hadn’t expected.
And as it turns out, kissing Alec Mason isn’t something one should take on casually, not when the man can turn a make-out session into something that feels a lot like sex. I probably should have thought about that possibility before I crawled all over him, I guess.
Not that I hadn’t ever thought about crawling all over him. I had—a lot. Usually when I was lying awake at night and playing picture-my-perfect-life to help me fall asleep. Alec is good for a few minutes of indulgence, although in those fantasies, he was more or less mute. After Saturday night, I’m now considering having him speak more in future installments.
The problem is, I think I should have kept sexy Alec strictly in the realm of fantasyland. The real-life version is a little too good. He’s the sort of thing you want to keep doing even when you know it’s not a good idea and that in the end, you’re going to regret it. It felt as if I’d pulled up a chair at a table set with every decadent dessert I love, made sure I was wearing comfortable pants, and then ate myself into a stomachache. Alec tastes great and feels good, but if I enjoy him too much, I’m going to end up with a heart problem. The kind you can’t fix with a pill or a potion.
Alec scans the room, and when his eyes meet mine, a sexy smile creeps over his face. In that moment, even when I know that he’s more than I can handle, all I want to do is fill my plate again. My heart and my belly are doing things they haven’t done in years, and as much as I want to stifle those sensations, there’s a part of me that knows how good it would feel to give