Page 177 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“No,” I say—as Hardy says, “Yes.”
I look up at him, confused, and he just smirks.
“Ooo, looks like you two have some details to work out,” Vinnie says. “But if I were you, miss, I’d be saying yes. Looks like your boy is quite the catch.”
“Thanks, Vinnie,” Hardy says.
“Anytime, Boss,” he answers.
And then because I’m awkward and don’t want to listen to Vinnie lecture me…or call me out again, I spend the rest of the drive to my apartment looking out the window while Hardy continues to twirl my hair and stick very close to my side.
Finally, when we arrive, I start to say bye to Hardy, but instead of offering me a wave, he scoots across the seat and gets out of the car. He holds his hand out to me, and, confused, I take it and allow him to help me out.
And when I think he’s going to get back in the car, he says, “Thanks, man.”
“Sure thing,” Vinnie replies as Hardy shuts the door, and before I can ask what’s going on, the car drives off, leaving me on the sidewalk alone with Hardy.
Uhh…that was his ride home.
Was he aware?
I’m about to ask when he nods toward my building. “Aren’t you going to invite me up?”
“Uh…” I blink a few times. “Do you want to be invited up?”
“Only if you want me to come up.”
“Well, my apartment isn’t much,” I say. “I’m sure your place is much bigger so I think it would be less than impressive to you, not much to see, so?—”
He tilts my chin up with one finger, so I have to look him in the eyes.
His blue to my green.
Our gazes locked under the cloud-covered sky.
And in a dark, dreamy voice, he says, “I’m not asking to see your apartment, Everly.”
Oh, dear God.
My legs tremble beneath me.
My mind spirals with questions.
My heart tumbles with yearning for this to be true.
“Wh-what are you asking?” I say, my nerves getting the better of me.
His hand cups my cheek, and his thumb passes over my skin. With his eyes intent on mine, he says, “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not really,” I say on a gulp.
His eyes bounce back and forth between mine. His grip on me grows tighter, more possessive, and when he steps in closer, leaving no space between us, my breath hitches in my chest.
“I want you, Everly.”
Is this a joke?
This can’t be true.
