Page 52 of Double Dared
Harrison laughed as he pulled the car up and killed the engine. The moonlight was enough to show us the way after the headlights had gone out.
I reached for the backpack, then paused and looked at Harrison. “We’re not breaking and entering, right? You rented this place.”
“Rented?” Harrison smiled and shook his head. “It’s mine. Well, mine on paper, but my parents come here from time to time.”
I mouthed a curse, then stepped out of the car, as did Harrison. “I don’t think I can wrap my mind around just how rich you are.”
“Don’t bother trying,” Harrison said. “I didn’t earn it.”
“You live it.” Was that a rude thing to say? I hoped not. “What do they do, your parents?”
Harrison was busy with his keys as he walked ahead and climbed the stairs to the deck, then crossed it to reach the front door. “Oh, Mom runs a law firm, and Dad’s in construction.”
I whistled low. “Good. I was afraid you’d tell me they were in the New Jersey waste management business.”
Harrison chuckled. He unlocked the door, pushed it open before us, and flicked on the lights at the entrance. The whole place came to life with the subdued glow of lamps and gentle, dimmed overhead lights.
“They signed this place over to me as a sort of insurance in life,” Harrison said. “In case all the banks fail and the world ends, at least I’d have something. Dad’s big on physical assets.” He shut the door behind me as I stepped into the pure wonderland of cozy charm.
Decorated in a mix of Harrison’s beloved mid-century modern with accents of rustic style, the placehad a large, brick fireplace, comfortable sofas, lots of wood, and stone details. The ground floor extended to the dining area and a kitchen separated only by an island, and large, glass doors leading to the deck in the back of the house.
“Do you bring all your boys and girls here?” I asked cheekily.
Harrison gave me an innocent look, slightly bewildered, as if he was surprised by something. “You’re the first.”
And there he made all my other words redundant. The first, first? As in, Emma hadn’t been here in two years of their dating?
Harrison’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “She doesn’t like forests far from cities. I could see the question in your eyes.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could contain it. “I think I’m in heaven.”
“I thought you might say that,” Harrison said and dropped his duffel by the door, then walked into the house properly. He went over to the small bar in the living room, set down two glasses, and moved his index finger between the bottles. “Ah, there it is.” He picked one up while I set my backpack by his duffel and walked over to him.
Of course, he had a record player on display, and many of the similar vinyls were sheathed in the colorful covers on the shelf below it. “Do you come here often?” I asked.
“Not as often as I’d like,” he said. “But when I havea deadline for a big essay, I like to drive up here, watch films, and write upstairs. The view of the mountain slope in winter would take your breath away.”
He poured us something golden brown into glasses, then offered one to me. I didn’t even ask what it was. Harrison’s eyes encouraged me, liquid brown and so very alive. “Hold on,” he said, then set his glass down. He walked over to the fireplace, where the kindling and larger logs were already set like they were part of an exhibition, and he bent down for half a minute to light a match and push it to the clump of stray at the heart of it.
His ass was packed so tightly in his pants that I lost all interest in the delicate work of making a fire to focus on it. He was stunning. When he rose again, the fire was starting to burn brighter, but my gaze lingered on his waist, watching him turn around and walk toward me.
He picked up his glass, then raised it.
I did the same, letting them clink briefly before taking a small sip of the drink he’d given me. It smelled like smoke and wood and oak barrels. It stung on the way down, but only briefly, and warmth spread through me instantly.
“Is it a private space that you didn’t want to share with others?” I asked.
Harrison exhaled, his breath carrying a little trace of alcohol and all the warmth of its woodiness. “I guess you could say so. I love my apartment, but this is where I escape to.”
“Show me,” I said.
He smiled and reached for me, grabbing a fistful of my hoodie and pulling me in. “If you kiss me first.”
“What a bargain,” I snorted, leaning in easily and crushing my mouth against his.
Harrison was an excellent kisser. Maybe that was why it was so easy to forget that I’d never kissed a guy until that day at the gallery, and hadn’t kissed a guy truly until last night. But with him, all that felt irrelevant. It felt like a footnote, of little interest, because the real deal was so fucking good.
When he pulled away from me, he wore a satisfied smile. “The things I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered. “Are you nervous?”
