The Lucky in Love Collection - Lauren Blakely Page 0,112
smirk, thinking of precisely how hard Derek is. I toss her a knowing glance. “As hard as it needs to be.”
Her jaw drops, and she smacks my elbow. “Tell me everything, you minx.”
The memory of the other night washes over me. The way I straddled him on the couch. The filthy things he said. The hard, hot length of him. “There’s not much to tell. We made out, but we stopped. Because I have damn good resistance.”
“That doesn’t entirely sound like the definition of good resistance. That sounds like the start of something deliciously dirty.”
“Hello? Hot man in my face, and I’m mere minutes away from a mind-blowing O and I stopped? That’s hella awesome. I’ve always had good resistance. And I will keep having it with him.”
“What makes you think you have stellar resistance? I’m just curious.”
We turn the corner toward the town square. “For one, I never drank or did drugs in high school or college. I had no problem resisting that.”
“True, but isn’t Derek more tempting than drugs? You were never into drugs or alcohol.”
“Exactly. So I’ll be fine.”
“But you’ve always liked tall, dark, and inked men. Do I need to remind you of Nick?”
I hiss. “No, please don’t. He was the biggest ass of all the asses.”
“How about Cody? The guy you dated after college. He had bad idea written all over him.” Evidently, Vanessa is taking me on a tour of the ghosts of boyfriends past. Tonight’s edition stars the handyman who worked in one of the nearby vineyards when I was in my early twenties. We fell into a fast and breathless relationship. He’d come over late at night, keep me up after hours, and ask me to skip work and play.
“And I had discipline resisting his bad ideas. Remember? I broke up with him the second he asked me to start paying his bills.”
“You’re excellent at knowing when to get out of a bad relationship. But sometimes you’re drawn to them.”
“But Derek’s not a bad man,” I point out quickly.
Vanessa whips her head around, and we stop in front of the olive store. She stares at me like she’s caught me sampling an olive without using a toothpick. “So you do like him.”
Her eyes are like a magnifying glass seeing through me. I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to be seen, so I let the light shine on a portion of the truth. “Obviously I’m attracted to him. We’re doing the kissing contest.”
She tilts her head and gives me the look. “It’s more than attraction, Perri. You like him. And it’s not about the contest. If you truly wanted to, you could enter the friendly kiss category with a friend. Derek’s different. You like-like him.”
“Are you giving me the double-barrel ‘like’?”
She smirks. “I sure am. Guilty, officer?”
I take a deep breath, wanting to deny it, wishing I could. But I do like him. He’s so much more interesting than I thought. He’s so much more than a simple flirty, dirty biker. He has layers I never expected, a good heart, a great soul, and a kindness that reaches deep down inside him. He’s that rare breed of man who ticks every box on the checklist.
Except one.
He’s not interested in a relationship. He told me point-blank that day in the waffle truck.
Relationships aren’t my thing these days, he’d said.
That makes two of us, I’d replied.
He said it again when we established the rules of living together.
Relationships are not on the radar.
A strange heaviness settles over my heart, but I dismiss it quickly. Relationships aren’t on my radar either. That’s why it’s pointless to worry and to wonder—neither one of us is interested in entanglements.
“I do like him, but it doesn’t matter since I don’t want any entanglements, nor does he.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. We’re both on the same page. We don’t want more.”
“That’s what we say until we do want more,” Vanessa says, softly and wisely. Too wisely perhaps.
“But right now, I don’t. Plus, I’ve got my eyes on the prize,” I say, waving my hand behind me at the station, thinking briefly of Elias and his efforts to land the promotion. For a second, I want to tell Vanessa how it makes me feel, but I’m also all feeling-ed out right now.
I point to the olive shop. “Now, olives—those I can’t resist.” I grab her arm and head into the shop. “It’s your turn. Have you picked a fabulous cause for your part of our bet?”