Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,26

hair to cascade over his shoulder. “Such as?”

I shrugged and stared down at my coffee. His eyes were so penetrating, and I felt out of my league, so much so that my hands had the familiar tremor in them. I wrapped both tightly around my mug as if it’d fly away if I wasn’t holding it down. Besides, was getting to know each other proper coffee etiquette? I hadn’t done this in so long that I felt like I was in over my head.

“Well, like your last name for one thing. All I know is that your name is Stellan and you don’t suck at playing the saxophone.”

“I appreciate you noticing my non-sucking skills when it comes to music. However, there are certain things that require major sucking. And I’m good at those, too.”

My face flamed, and I was glad my head was dipped. “Right. Well, you definitely have skills with your instrument.” Fuck me, why did that sound so suggestive?

“And fixing cars,” he added, and since I still wasn’t looking at him, I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Oh, and fixing cars.”

“As for the rest, isn’t that the point of hanging out together, even over coffee? Getting to know each other?”

“Is that what this is?” I asked, risking a glance at him.

His eyes were warm, but there was a gentle blaze that started a slow burn in my belly, and I had to shift in my seat.

“Me trying to get to know you better? Absolutely.”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

“Because you could have your pick of anyone at Clancy’s—or any bar—and yet you’re here with me.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“That you’re either a glutton for punishment or got shut down by someone else.”

“There’s also a third option.”

“What’s that?”

“I like you and wanted to spend more time with you, outside our jobs.”

My mouth felt dry and my throat raw. I stuck out my tongue in an attempt to moisten my lips, and he didn’t bother to hide tracing the movement with his eyes.

“You like me?” I heard myself asking.

“I do.”

“But you don’t even know me,” I stupidly reminded him.

“Which is why I invited you for coffee, so I can get to know you.”

“I’ve never done this before,” I admitted.

“Had coffee with someone?”

I shook my head. What would he think once I told him? Would he run away? Or decide I wasn’t worth his time? And why did I suddenly want to be worthy? Hadn’t I told myself that I needed to focus on getting back my own two feet, so there was no time for anyone else in my life? And yet, for Stellan, I was willing to make time for him.

He still hadn’t told me his last name, and yet there I was wanting to throw myself across the table and beg him to take a chance on me when I had no idea what that’d even entail. Huge life-changing decisions like that shouldn’t be made over coffee while your brain was fueled by lust, yet there I was ready to sign on the dotted line. All I needed was a pen.

“No,” I said softly and averted my eyes, “b-been with a m-man.”

Stellan was so quiet I had to force myself to look at him. I expected to see annoyance, anger, or worse—disinterest. But none of that was on his face. Yes, there was a bit of shock, but something else stood out more than anything else. Intrigue. Like I was a challenge he was about to accept…if I gave it to him.

“I see. I was curious if that was the case, since you didn’t flirt as much with the men as you did the women.”

I bit the inside of my cheek before I commented. “I only do that for tips. I’m not interested in anyone except…” I trailed off.

“Except me?” he asked bluntly.

It wasn’t like I could lie. What good would that do me? “Yes,” I admitted softly.

The gentle blaze in his eyes flared brighter as he leaned forward and extended his hand across the table. He curled his fingers around my wrist and stroked the wildly beating pulse with his thumb.

“It’s Abernathy,” he told me, and it was the last thing I expected him to say.

“W-what is?”

“My last name. It’s Abernathy.”

“Mine’s Morgan.”

“Well, Foster Morgan, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You too, Stellan Abernathy.”

“Want to get out of here?”

Did I? Was I ready for that? I’d just told him I’d never been with a man before, and I knew once I left with him, that was no telling what