Page 24 of Absolution

I reach for her hand; she takes mine with a smile. "Friends never cross lines when their hearts are in the right place. Their heads might be in the gutter, but still, they mean well."

"Exactly. I'm simply watching out for your sexual health." She laughs, waving as she runs to her car.

"Sex. Love. Hot men. Animals. It's been a helluva day at sea." I crank my vehicle and ready to pull out onto Highway Seventeen for home.

A pewter-colored SUV comes to a stop in front of me. My anxiety goes through the roof. I scan the lot, looking for help or a way to make an escape if needed. A sound from the vehicle pulls me back to it, and I realize who it is.

“Creed?” I push my door open as he rounds the back of the SUV and saunters toward me. He throws his hand up, with a lopsided grin.

“Hey, I guess I’m holding you up.”

“You’re fine.” I wave him off as I slide from my seat. “Is Doc alright?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it’s not about her, actually.”

“Oh, do you need your shots? I mean, you are a Hatcher.” I giggle when his mouth gapes.

“I do not, but thanks for asking.” He chuckles, kicking a rock with his foot. “So, do you live close by?”

“On the other side of Cherry Grove, the neighborhood is killer.”

His brow quirks. “Killer, is it? Good deal.”

“Are you thinking of buying in the area?”

“Uh, no. Maybe. Possibly. Yeah, probably.” He trips over his words like a teen boy, smiling coyishly as the wind whips through his hair. Damn, he’s fine as hell, his lips alone could put me in a trance. “Scarlet?”

I jolt when he calls my name a little louder than before. “Huh? Why are you yelling at me?”

“I’ve called your name like five times, where are you?”

Well, they do work like that. “Thinking.”

“I guess I should let you go, you might have a date or something.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“Ha! Good one.” I giggle snort, and his brows raise. “Were you serious?”

“Did you just snort?”

“No!” I snap.

“Yes.” He counters.

I shake my head, waiting for the words to come out. Answer the date, forget the snort. “No, to both.”

“Okay.” He leans against the front of his SUV, biting his lip. “Do you date?”

“No, not really.” I ease against my hood, making myself comfortable.

He side-eyes me. “No, you don’t date, or you don’t often?”

“I said no.”

“Actually, you said ‘no, not really’ and left it open to ambiguity. I’m asking for a clear answer.” He studies me, watching my every move. For what? To see if I’m lying to him.

“And that’s my answer.”

“It’s a non-answer, Scar.” Chills wash over me as he says my name with a smolder in his eyes.