Page 41 of Dangerous Attraction

Standing back up, I grab the cropped denim jacket from my bed and slip it on.

"I'd love to, but unfortunately, that's been ruined for me."

She sighs. "I know it's going to be hard for you to trust someone again, and I understand why, but I think you need to push yourself out of your comfort zone so you—"

"I don't want the same shit to happen again, Em. I couldn't cope with it."

Walking through the trailer, I grab my bag from the kitchen side, snatch a granola bar from the cupboard, then take my phone off loudspeaker and press it against my ear.

"I need to get going, but I'll talk to you later, okay? Love you."

"Love you, bye!"

Ending the call, I turn off the lights, then shove my shoulder against the front door, almost falling out when it swings open with ease.

"Stupid fucking thing," I grumble, jumping over the steps instead of using them and risking an injury to myself.

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

I scream and leap backward, banging my arm against the door and almost dropping my phone.

Reeve chuckles from where he's leaning against his car with his arms crossed, displaying his perfectly sculpted arms which I can vividly imagine being wrapped around my body.

He looks desirable wearing a pair of dark, loose fitting jeans with a simple, but extremely tight, white tank top, and his usual leather cut which showcases the multitude of tattoos covering his warm skin.

A pair of sunglasses shield his eyes from mine, but God, they somehow make him look better. And don't even get me started on the backward cap covering the unkempt waves on the top of his head.

The sight of him has my stomach tightening, and my mouth watering.

My perusal of him lasts far too long, yet not long enough.

His lips stretch into a cocky smirk. "See something you like, Red?"

My cheeks heat in embarrassment at being caught red-handed gawking at him like an idiot.

In an attempt to recover, I lift my phone, swipe onto the camera app, and snap a picture of him before pocketing my phone and shrugging.

He laughs, pushes away from the car, then pops the passenger side door open.

"Should I even dare ask what you plan on doing with that picture?" he asks, the deep timbre of his voice washing over my body and sending a shiver down my spine.

"Not if you want an honest answer," I mutter. Slamming the trailer door closed, I hurry over to the car, and jump inside, keeping my gaze cemented to the floor to avoid his gaze.

Ducking my head, I let my hair drop to—hopefully—hide my red cheeks and wide eyes.

Holy shit. Was I just flirting with him?

He gently closes my door, and as I close my eyes, I release a deep breath, then swallow the mortification I'm currently feeling.

When he climbs into the car, I press my lips together and subtly shift in my seat, unsure of what to do or say after what just happened.

The engine rumbles to life, and after a few moments, the car starts to roll forward, filling me with relief.

It's not until we're out of the trailer park, and driving up the long road leading to the clubhouse that my brain catches up on the events of the last ten minutes, and I question the situation I find myself in.

My brows furrow and I turn to face him.

"Why were you at my trailer?"