I turn in the direction of his voice. “I can’t see you.”
The floor creaks as he walks back toward me, and then his hand gropes for mine. He finds my palm, his fingers wrapping around it securely as he tugs me toward the door.
My heart beats in a quick pace that has nothing to do with the pitch blackness. It’s been a while since holding a guy’s hand was enough to make my pulse race. Am I regressing to my teenage years? Sometimes it feels that way when I talk to him.
“Watch your step,” he says before descending the porch.
He leads me down carefully, and then our feet kick through the grass. I don’t know how the hell he can make his way through the black, but it’s disorienting. I can’t see a thing. There are no streetlights and everybody’s house is dark. He sets the beer bottles on the table and guides me into a chair. Then he pulls one next to me. I hear the fabric going taut as he sinks into his seat. Then there’s a pop and a hiss.
He snatches my hand, and again I feel a blaze of attraction underneath that thin layer of skin. The cold glass touches my fingers, and I wrap them around the bottle. I nearly take out my teeth when I try to sip it.
“What are we doing here?”
“Having a drink. Something tells me you really need to unwind.”
So I’m tightly wound, am I? Much as it annoys me, I know he’s right. “It’s hard for me to relax, but I’m trying.”
“If you knew what was good for you, you’d take me up on my offer.”
“Which one would that be?”
He turns his head toward me. “All of them.” A tingling sensation spreads when he touches my arm.
Utter silence and darkness press in on both of us. As though it’s just the two of us in a world of black.
“Why did you bring me out here?”
He clenches my arm. “Look up, Olivia.”
I look up.
The sky is stung with dozens, thousands of stars. Some white, red, and blue. All of them beautiful. A light-blue hue stretches across the sky like the broad stroke of a paintbrush. It’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like this before. The more I stare, the more disembodied I feel. It’s as though I’m up there, floating with the stars.
“Oh my God.”
His voice strokes my skin. “Tell me that kind of view exists in San Francisco.”
“It doesn’t. It’s impossible with all the light and the fog. This is amazing.” My stomach clenches as he slides up my arm. “What are you doing?”
I try to find his face, but there’s nothing but the oppressive darkness and the stars winking at me overhead.
“Trying to get you to relax. Clearly, it’s not working and I should just throw you over my shoulder.”
I picture myself slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, Gage’s hands on my ass. I barely know the man.
“I’m your tenant, not your hookup.”
“Not yet.”
And you haven’t exactly pulled from his touch.
Gage stands the moment I get up from the chair, and suddenly his hands are on my hips. His strong grip pulls me close enough to smell his skin. I grab him, intending to pull away, but my heart thuds a resolute no. I can’t even see him—he might as well not be Gage—but I picture the mechanic in my head anyway.
Oiled with a sheen of sweat glimmering in the sun. A finger touches my chin, tilting it up. And his mouth is right there, breathing into mine. I can’t fight the leap in my chest. I taste his breath, before his lips descend over mine. His kiss lacks any softness. It’s possessive, as though he knew I wanted him.
My heart bursts out of my chest, and suddenly I realize how loud everything is. Like the rustling noise my clothes make when his arms slide over my hips to wrap around my waist. I’m stunned. Shit, I’ve never kissed anyone like this.
Then something snaps in my lizard-brain, and I raise myself on my tiptoes to crush my lips against his. He’s right—I am desperate. I’ve had enough of Mark’s perfunctory kisses. The light pecks on my cheek. No, I wanted this all along.
The curve of his smile presses into my lips as I wrap my arms around his neck, diving my fingers into his fine hair. A gasp leaves my chest as he sucks in my bottom lip, biting. Then his hands move