Page 55 of The Offside Rule
This was trouble. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll come for dinner.”
“No wine.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“No wine,” he repeated. “We’ve proven alcohol makes us stupid.”
“That is rude and accurate,” I said with a laugh.
“Try to control yourself,” he joked.
I smiled despite myself. “I’ll be back in thirty. I need a hot shower if I’m going to be having dinner with you.”
He understood the meaning in my words, and his jaw tightened. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman. Take forty minutes.”
“Why?” I grinned.
“Because I need to shower too, and I need at least ten minutes to remind myself I’m not touching you.”
Heat rushed through me. I turned toward the elevator before I could do something stupid. “Good luck with that.” I smiled, feeling my whole body flush.
“Catherine?”
I looked back.
His eyes were on me, dark and serious. “I mean it. I’m not touching you tonight.”
I nodded, even though my body hated the idea. “Okay.”
The elevator opened, and I stepped inside. This time, I did not say anything reckless. I went upstairs, showered, got myself off twice in the shower, washed the chlorine from my hair, and stood in front of my closet trying to decide what a woman wore to a friendly dinner with the man who had just told her he wouldn’t touch her because he might not stop. If nothing was happening, and if he had his AC on like every normal person in Dallas during July, then comfort was fair. I pulled on an oversized butter-yellow thin sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder and matching baggy lounge pants. The set was soft, casual, and not sexy. At least, that was the goal.
I skipped makeup because I didn’t have the energy, and I left my hair down over my shoulders because it was still damp and too much work to do anything else with it. The two times I had come in the shower didn’t feel like enough, so I took out my vibie and lay on the bed with my legs spread. I turned it on and went to town until I was coming and screaming Hunter’s name. Thank goodness I had the condo to myself. After, I got up and went to the washroom to wash my hands, but I knew I smelled of sex. I had come hard. I grabbed my phone and headed down before I could overthink it.
Hunter’s condo was a few floors below ours. I stood outside it for exactly five seconds, took a breath, and knocked. The door opened almost immediately. Hunter stood there in dark joggers and a plain white T-shirt, hair damp from the shower, feet bare. His eyes moved over me. Not the way they had in the elevator. Not sharp and hungry. This was worse. His gaze took in my bare face, my damp hair, the sweatshirt hanging off my shoulder, the soft pants, the fact that I had shown up without armor. He sucked in a breath. And that was where I knew I was in trouble.
CHAPTER 10
Hunter
I opened the door and forgot how to breathe. Catherine stood in my hallway in a yellow lounge set that should not have done a damn thing to me. It wasn’t tight or revealing. It wasn’t the black dress from the other night or the purple bikini from the roof. It was soft and loose, the sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, the pants baggy around her legs, her hair damp and falling over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her gorgeous green eyes were more pronounced against her tan skin. She looked like comfort and trouble wrapped in one very dangerous package. And she smelled like vanilla and soap and something warmer underneath that made every muscle in my body lock up. Her lips parted a little. Our visceral reactions to each other weren’t helping my situation.
“Hi,” she said.
My brain came back online just enough to remind me I was standing in my doorway staring at her like I’d never seen a woman before.
“Hi.” I stepped back. “Come in.”
She walked past me, and I caught that soft scent again. My hand tightened around the edge of the door before I shut it because I needed something solid to hold on to. I had already decided in the shower that nothing was happening tonight. We were simply getting to know each other. A friendly dinner. Okay, friendly was a lie.
Catherine stopped a few feet inside my condo and looked around. “Wow.”
I closed the door. “Wow good or wow bad?”
She laughed softly. “Wow good.”
I followed her gaze around the space. The condo was open and modern with big windows, warm wood, soft gray couches, and enough color that it didn’t look like a single man had designed it alone. Which was good, because I absolutely hadn’t.
“Isla loves decorating,” I said.
