Page 79 of Then You Happened
This time I want to demand she look at me so she knows it’s me who’s buried deep inside her.
Christ.
I shift in my seat to adjust for my dick getting hard.
“Thank God, they kicked us off the lane for”—she waves her hand in indifference to the teams of men lined up to compete— “whatever it is that has those men looking way too damn serious. It is not safe for me to throw an axe right now.” She holds her empty wine glass up as her laugh rings out. “Cheap date alert, right here.”
“That’s something that probably isn’t best to advertise too loudly,” I say jokingly.
“Not like any of them would step within five feet of me.” She snorts.
And I’d kill them if they did.
The thought comes out of nowhere at the same time as a cheer goes up to our left. Someone has hit the highest point marker on the target, and I’m grateful for the distraction so I can shake the thought away.
Where the hell did that come from?
But when I look back to her, I know exactly where it came from.
God, she’s fucking beautiful, incredible . . .
I lift my finger to the waiter for another round of drinks because I’m pretty sure I need it right now.
“Hey?”
Tate’s voice draws my attention back to her even though my mind hasn’t stopped thinking about her. “Hmm?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” I offer a tight smile.
“Tell me something about you that I don’t know.” The unexpected question throws me.
“Something about me?”
She bites her bottom lip and nods like an eager kid.
“I thought I was invincible when I was younger.”
“Don’t we all?” she murmurs as she rests her chin on her hand and leans forward.
“I tried my hand at bronco riding.”
“You did?” she asks, her eyes widening as she tries to take a sip from her empty glass and then giggles.
“I did.” I lean back. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“No?”
“No. The scar across my collarbone is a reminder of the end result. A hoof to the chest is never a good thing.”
She winces and runs a hand over her own in sympathy. “What made you try something like that?”
I was hurt and rebelling and trying to live up to expectations that I’d never reach. Doing something rash to thumb my nose at my dad seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Stupidity,” I say through a laugh. “Quid pro quo.” Her eyebrow lifts in acknowledgment. “Why don’t you do photography anymore?”
There’s a falter in her body language that tells me this is a touchy subject.
