Page 35 of Dangerous Attraction

Placing the rag in the sink and the glasses in the dishwasher, I turn it on, then flick the light off before walking back out.

The lone figure sitting at the bar causes me to jump, a scream trapped in my throat.

"You scared the shit out of me," I tell him, watching as the auburn haired man frowns, his shoulders slumping.

He glances over his shoulder, then turns back to me.

"I'm sorry."

His whispered words ease the tension inside of me immediately.

"It's okay, no harm done." Moving behind the bar, I grab my bag from the floor. "I was about to leave, but I can get you something if you need?"

He shakes his head, lowering his eyes to the wooden surface between us.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," I say. Placing my hand on the bar, I lightly tap my fingers against it, then move away.

I'm halfway across the room before he speaks again.

"My name's Mouse."

Swiveling on the spot, I see he's now turned around on the stool, his jittery hands in his lap, shoulders furled tight and his cautious brown eyes darting around my face.

The sight of him sends waves of sadness rushing through me, only serving as a reminder of myself many years ago.

Taking a moment to stare at him, it's as if I can see through the hard, grown up exterior, and instead see a glimpse of the lonely, tortured soul he hides.

An ache starts in my chest, as if my own hidden, broken soul is recognizing his.

I smile, and nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mouse."

The pale scar that slices through the side of his lips stretches as his mouth twitches, the smallest smile gracing his face.

Making my way out the clubhouse, I trudge down the steps, stopping when a set of headlights turn on, blinding me.

Using my arm to shield my eyes, I move to the side until I'm no longer in front of the car.

Seeing the shiny black Camaro with the tinted windows, I sigh and slowly edge to the driver's side.

Reeve winds the window down, and his piercing blue eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes, rise to meet mine.

My heart stutters in my chest.

He tilts his head to the side, motioning to the passenger seat.

"Get in."

My lips part, a puff of air pushing its way out of my mouth.

His demanding tone may be hot—along with the look currently on his face—but I'm not completely hypnotized by his good looks. I have enough wits about me to know I don't enjoy being ordered around.

Although, with his deep, rough voice, I'm starting to wonder if I'd really be totally against it.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Red. I'm taking you home."

Too tired to argue with him, I nod and walk around the car.