Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,42

I said pretty much the same thing to him and then flat-out refused to expand on it?

He doesn’t have to tell me a damn thing. And if I had asked him to explain his words, I would have only been putting myself in danger of having to do the same.

So, I said nothing and let the conversation over dinner take a normal turn.

Now, we’re heading back home on his motorcycle. My ass only a little chilly from the snow. Jack did a good job of cleaning off the seat before we got on it. Although my helmet was as cold as hell. Jack offered me his to wear, but it was too big for my head.

So, he pulled out a beanie from his helmet bag, put it on my head, and put my helmet on top.

I know my hair is going to look a mess when I take the beanie off. But I’m warm, and the beanie smells like Jack, so it’s hard to be bothered by the thought of fluffy hair.

The date is almost over. It’s not like it matters how my hair looks now.

No, that’s not a pang of disappointment in my chest at the thought of my time with Jack coming to an end.

Okay, it totally is.

But who says the date has to be over the moment we get back?

I could invite him in for a drink.

And sex.

I mean, it was pretty clear from the conversation—not the one about death—that sex was on the menu for tonight.

And despite his death line, I want to.

I can’t exactly be turned off by what he said … as I said the exact same thing.

Maybe Jack hasn’t attracted the attention of a serial murderer, like me, but he was in the military.

People die at the hands of soldiers. And soldiers die at the hand of war. Many, many lives are lost because of war.

And Jack was stationed in Syria, where a war was happening.

It would be a surprise to me if that wasn’t what he meant when he made that statement.

And my gut tells me that Jack is nothing like Tobias.

Nothing in the way he behaves gives any indication that he’s a total psycho.

Not that I ever knew Tobias. I said hello to him a couple of times, and that was it.

How scary is it that a man I didn’t even know terrorized and changed my life forever?

Nope. I refuse to let my mind veer down that path tonight.

I’ve had a nice time with Jack.

I’m not letting my past take that from me as well.

Jack steers his bike into his usual parking spot outside of our building and turns off the engine.

Holding on to Jack’s arms, I clamber off the bike and manage to undo and get the helmet off for the first time on my own, pulling the beanie off with it.

I retrieve it from the inside of the helmet and offer it back to Jack.

Climbing off the bike with his usual grace, he takes it from me and puts it in the helmet bag along with his own helmet.

“What should I do with this one?” I ask him.

“Keep it,” he tells me.

“Keep it?”

“Yeah. It’s yours. I bought it for you.”

“But …”

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb resting over my lips. “It’s yours.” He smiles. “It’s my way of making sure you ride with me again one day.”

I’ll ride you if you want.

Jesus, Audrey.

Since when did I turn into a sex-starved nympho?

Since Jack, apparently.

“Okay.” It’s my turn to smile. “Well, thank you.”

“No thanks needed.” He stares at me. His eyes darken. It … looks like he wants to kiss me.

I want him to kiss me.

I already know what it feels like to have Jack’s lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, and I want to feel it again.

So very frigging badly.

I would normally lick my lips, giving him the indication that I want what I think he wants, too, if it didn’t mean I would lick his thumb still resting against my lips. And licking his thumb would just be way too weird, even for me.

So, I try to convey with my eyes that I want him to remove his thumb and replace it with his lips.

Snowflakes start to fall again.

Jack blinks and then glances up at the sky. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He removes his hand from my face, and my skin instantly goes cold.

I try not to sigh at the loss of both his hand and the kiss that never happened.

Why didn’t he kiss me