The Last Guy

“Stupid seat belt,” she mutters as she clanks the two pieces together unsuccessfully.

“Here, let me help.” I lean over her and reach for her straps. It takes me longer than it should because I’ve had too much to drink, but I finally click it together. Still, I hover over her a few seconds more. She smells so fucking good, like coconuts and sunshine mixed together. I lower my arm, and my hand brushes against her breast.

Fuck.

I sit back and adjust my own belt.

The car is quiet as a church on Sunday as we pull away, and I imagine she’s wondering how the hell we ended up in a car . . . alone . . . together.

My mind goes back to the club and how we’d been pressed up against each other. Like a couple.

What the hell had I been doing back there?

Flirting, asshole.

Yeah. With prickly, uptight Rebecca Fieldstone. Now what?

Drop her off at her place and then go home. That’s the sensible thing to do.

But part of me doesn’t want to be sensible. I want to throw Stone’s legs over my shoulders and fuck her brains out.

I bite back a groan at the image in my head. Not doing that. I clasp my hands in my lap and stare out the window. Again.

She clears her throat and plays with one of the beads on her dress. Without the rambunctious crowd and loud music backing me up, I’m without witty comebacks and apparently so is she. To distract myself, I reach down and grab two bottles of water the driver has left in a small basket on the floor. I twist the top off one and offer it to Stone. She murmurs a small thank you and takes a deep drink. I watch the smooth glide of her throat as she swallows, her full lips tight around the bottle.

Her lips . . . my cock . . . swallowing.

Stop.

I shake myself mentally.

I rub my temple. God, should I still be calling her Stone? It fits. I like it because it’s different.

Why am I attracted to her?

Those goddamn lips.

Her tits.

Those snappy comebacks.

I grab another bottle of water for me and chug it down in hopes of sobering up.

Too late to hydrate, my brain says. You’re fucked.

I watch the clock on the radio in the front seat. Exactly two minutes since we’ve spoken. It feels like two hours.

I glance at the driver, a young guy in a baseball cap. “How much longer till we get there?”

He glances at the GPS he has mounted on his dashboard. “About five more minutes.”

Fucking forever.

Why doesn’t she say something?

Better yet, why am I acting like a young buck on his first date?

Finally I give in, take her hand and just go with my gut. “Hey. Thank you,” I say.

“What? Why? For dancing with you?” She looks a bit disoriented as she glances at our hands and then up at me. I bite back a smile. Stone is cute as hell when she’s trashed. I resist the urge to push an errant curl behind her ear.

I shrug. “For just having a good time with us and introducing Trent to Chas. The truth is my brother likes pushing my buttons. I was prepared to be the butt of all the jokes tonight. Literally and figuratively.” I let out a laugh. “I almost didn’t come, but I had this crap dinner with my dad . . .” my voice trails off and I sigh. “Nevermind, it’s not anything you want to hear about.”

“You’re really sweet to your brother.” Her thumb rubs the top of my hand, almost absently, as if she’s unaware of the caress. “I’m glad you came. I-I had a great time with you.”

“Me too.”

She smiles, and I like how genuine it is, not like her on-air smile which looks real to the viewers but isn’t. “Tell me about Trent.”

I nod, relaxing. “He spent a lot of time blaming himself for our parent’s divorce, but my mom’s better off without my dad. And Trent . . . he’s the only sibling I have. When I busted my knee, he showed up at my apartment and took care of things. I mean, you saw him partying, but he can be serious when you need him.”

She nods. “Chas is the same.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

It feels like small talk, but it isn’t. My brain registers that I really want to know more about her.

Plus, we’re holding hands.

God.

We’re fucking holding hands!

What am I doing?

Moving nonchalantly, I remove my hand from hers and rake it through my hair.

She frowns but continues to talk. “No, but my best friend Nancy is like a sister to me,” she says. “She moved to New York—hence the fifteen pounds I gained this year.”

Her voice is cryptic, and it riles me up.

“I like your curves.”

Her eyes catch mine. “Oh. Why’s that?”

“It fits your personality. Plus, you’re a tall woman and the overall image is . . . well . . . hot.”

Her face flushes.

“You’ve got something special on camera. Don’t let Marv or anyone else tell you different.”

Her face is soft as she gazes at me. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I get warm all over.

It isn’t from my buzz.

The car has stopped, and I’m relieved to have her home. After telling the Uber driver to wait, I get out and cross to her side to open her door, but she’s already out and stumbling on the curb. She giggles as I steady her. “I’ve had waayyyy too much to drink tonight. We can’t tell anyone, right?” She holds her index finger to her lips and makes the shhhh sound.

“Cross my heart.” I grin. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” I take her hand and wrap it around my bicep as I lead her to her building. We stop at her entrance, and we’re standing so close, I can see the freckles on her nose.

“Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

“There’s a doorman for that if I want.” She shrugs.

“Okay.” I’m disappointed, but it’s for the best.

I glance around. “You know, our buildings aren’t that far apart. I’m just a few blocks from here.”

She bites her lip. “That’s cool. Maybe we can hang out some time.”

“Yeah.”

The seconds tick by as we stand there staring at each other. I focus on her mouth as her eyes sweep over my shoulders, drifting down to my crotch before flying back up to my face.

She clears her throat. “You know, it’s only twelve, and I’m still feeling a little hyped up from tonight.” She hesitates as if thinking it through. “You want to come in and chat? Have a cup of coffee?”

I want to.

But I don’t need to.

“Kinda late for coffee.”

“We’re just pals,” she says rather brightly. “Plus, I want to hear more about growing up with Trent—and what it’s like to be in the Super Bowl. I’m actually a big college football fan.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Ah, I don’t know—”

The Uber takes off from the curb, and both of us gasp as we watch him speed away.

“Well, damn.” I laugh. “Looks like I’m stuck with you now, Stone.”

“You can Uber another car.”

“True.”

“Do you want to?” Her voice is breathless.

We study each other, and the air thickens. “No.”

“Are we going to stand out here all night then?”

I grin as I tuck my hands in my pockets. “Is the offer for coffee still open?”

She gives me a short nod, and it’s all I need to escort her inside and get on the elevator.