looking at me like that?” he asks, walking toward the counter. He’s dressed almost exactly like he was the first time we met, in dark jeans and a button-down shirt that’s form fitting and accentuates his powerful build. His appearance, along with the look in his eyes, causes my heart to pick up speed as he gets closer.
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you can’t decide if you want to run to me or away from me.”
I shift on the balls of my feet, wishing I were better at keeping my emotions locked away. “Why are you here?” I ask instead of answering his question.
“I wanted to come check on you. I tried to call you last night, but you didn’t answer, so I called Edie. She said you fell asleep in her guest room. And you haven’t answered my calls today or responded to my text.”
Edie told me when I woke up this morning that he’d called her, and every time I saw his number on my phone today, I tried to talk myself into answering or calling him back. I just couldn’t force myself to do it, even though I really wanted to.
“Thank you for checking up on me. As you can see, I really am okay, so you don’t need to worry about me,” I say, watching as his eyes flash with frustration and his jaw tics.
“Christ, you’re good.”
“What?” I say with a frown, confused by that statement.
He comes a step closer and leans into the counter with both hands. “I’ve never met a woman quicker than you are at putting up walls. You’re good, Anna. So good I bet no one ever gets in.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised I’m calling you out on whatever game it is you’re playing, since one minute you’re sweet and vulnerable, and the next you’re sour and on guard.”
“I’m not playing a game.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“No? Then what are you doing? Why are you pushing me away?”
“I’m not pushing you away.” I shake my head like his statement is completely ridiculous . . . but it’s not. He’s right; I have been pushing him away, because it’s easier than acknowledging I like him, especially when I don’t know if I’m ready to like anyone.
“Then what are you doing, Anna?”
“I’m not doing anything, Calvin.”
“Lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then explain to me why you’re so set on pushing me away.”
“I don’t know.” I toss my hands in the air, getting frustrated.
“You don’t know,” he repeats.
“When it comes to you, Calvin, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
“And that scares you.” It’s a statement, not a question, and my back straightens.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m not scared,” I lie.
“Then what do you call it?” he asks, capturing my hand and startling me with his firm grip. “If you’re not scared of me, then what is it?” He coaxes me closer, causing my breath to turn choppy.
“Nothing,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to his lips, which are close—so close I know all I’d have to do to feel them against mine is lean in an inch.
“Do you want to kiss me, Anna?”
My stomach dips, and the word yes rests on the tip of my tongue as he runs his nose across mine, making my stomach dip and my toes curl.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispers.
Oh God, I want that too. I have never wanted to kiss someone more than I want to kiss him.
“Calvin . . .”
“I want to see you tonight.”
“Okay.” My eyes widen; I’m surprised that I’ve just agreed so easily when I’ve been so careful about sticking to my decision to not date. His pupils dilate as my heart starts to pound. “I mean—”
“Don’t take it back,” he rumbles, and then his lips brush mine softly, causing my eyes to slide closed as my breath catches in the back of my throat. I feel him pull away, and my lashes flutter open to find him watching me. “I don’t know what has you so scared of me, Anna, but if you have the ability to rescue a little girl from the ocean, you can face your fears regarding me. We’ll talk tonight. Over dinner, you can tell me about your life before you moved here, and maybe then we can figure out together what’s holding you back. And if you’re open to hearing it, I’ll share a little about my past. You’re not the only one who’s nervous about doing this, but I feel in my gut