Dirty Playboy - Alex Wolf Page 0,18

idea how he got that information, but it shouldn’t surprise me. It’s what he does.

I glance down and scold myself for being dressed up for this date he basically demanded. I tried to force myself to go for a drive, be anywhere but here when he showed up, but I couldn’t. No, I came home and got ready because there’s something about Rick Lawrence that I can’t stay away from, no matter how bad I want to.

I know who he is. Sure, he’s never shown me the real him. I’m not one to usually judge someone, but I’ve heard unanimously from basically every female in the office that he’s a misogynist, player, crude—take your pick. Nobody ever describes him as being the way he acts when he’s around me, and everyone looks like they’re permanently in shock every time they see us together somewhere.

Which is a major problem. I don’t like to be deceived. I don’t enjoy being manipulated, and that’s what he’s doing. I graduated high school, and I won’t relive it as an adult. What if this is like the movie She’s All That? Maybe someone bet him he couldn’t get a date with me, and the second he gets what he wants a curtain is going to fall, and there will be a crowd of people laughing at me for being so stupid and falling for it.

Rick stands there for a while. It has to be a good three or four minutes, but it feels like an hour. He doesn’t budge, just stares straight forward, waiting.

For some reason I want to open the door so bad, but I just can’t. What if none of it is real? I think that’s the hardest part. What if it is some kind of sick game, and I give in, only to be humiliated?

Finally, after several minutes, his head drops, and he walks away.

My heart pinches in my chest. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have feelings for this man. I’m not perfect, but I’m a moral person. I try to do good, do the right thing. If I ever end up with a man, Rick is not who I would envision myself with. He’s so… James Dean-like, and I always pictured myself with a boring corporate lawyer or someone along those lines. Someone nerdy who listens to audiobooks of classic novels or nonfiction during his commute. Someone predictable.

Regardless of what people think about me, I’m not that innocent. I like men. I’ve had sex. I just happen to be religious and think reading is fun. I’m pretty boring. If they knew some of the books I’ve read, they’d probably change their entire outlook on me, though. I’m not afraid to dive into some dirty romance when the mood hits me.

None of it matters right now, though. Rick walks away and takes every ounce of excitement in my life with him. In that moment, I realize just how different my life has been with him following me around like a puppy dog. The funniest part is, I immediately miss it. I don’t want to, but I do.

I think what cemented the whole thing was when he followed me home the other night. He didn’t try to come up or take credit for it. When it mattered, he was there, even though he knew I was pissed at him. There’s something admirable about that, and I know there is so much more to him. The problem is, he won’t show me that part of him. He even hid it the other night and never mentioned it.

I start to turn around and go change out of my cute date outfit. It’s nothing special, just a black midi-skirt and red blouse, but it’s more intriguing than what I usually wear. My hair is curled. It’s a normal outfit for anyone else, but it’s dressed up for me, and I know I look cute in it. I find myself wishing he would’ve seen me.

I step forward and rest my forehead on the door, staring down at the ground, regretting my decision. What would it have hurt? I never take any risks in life, and this might be one I end up regretting forever. What harm could’ve come from having one date with a hot man who is nothing like me?

“It’s happening, Mary.”

The words resonate through the door and freeze me in my tracks. My heart pounds against my chest, coming alive at the sound of his words. I lean back gingerly from the door and look down