I don’t get to hear the end of that sentence—thank God—because Park’s there, shoving the guy’s face into the table. One of his friend’s stands up.
Park points to him. “Sit the fuck down.” The friend listens and Park’s grip tightens around Goatee’s neck. “Let her go before I fucking break your hand.” I feel him release me, and I take a quick step back, but I can’t pry my eyes off Park. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m going to let go, and you are going to apologize, then you are going to get up and leave without making any more of a scene.”
I look around quickly and he’s right. It’s a scene. My manager has his hand on the phone, ready to call the police. The other waitresses are huddled together, watching the events unfold, and every customer in the diner is craning their neck to get a look.
“Fuck you,” Goatee spits. His cheek is smashed against the table, his face red with rage. I can tell he’s struggling, but Park looks calm and composed. The bulging of the fine veins in his forearm and the whitening of his fingers are the only tell. He shakes the guy, slapping his cheek into the laminate top.
“I’m not letting go until you agree,” Park growls.
“We’ll go,” one of the others says.
The third one glances over at me. “He’s just drunk. We’ll get him out of here.”
I nod, but Park still doesn’t let him up. I touch his shoulder and the hard muscle beneath my fingertips makes me draw back. “Park.”
He turns his head slowly to look at me. “Step back, Lucy. Now.”
I do and Park shoves away from the guy who comes up swinging. He catches Park in the jaw and I release a shocked scream. His friends dive for his arms, but he’s bigger than them, and he’s furious. He shakes them off and goes after Park again. But Park’s recovered from the first hit and sidesteps the next wild throw. Then he lays Goatee out with an uppercut to the chin. As the big guy falls back into the table, I move forward, grabbing Park’s arm.
It takes him a moment to turn to me, and when he does, he captures my face between his hands, looking me over. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? Are you okay?” I trail my fingertips over his reddened jaw line. It’s hot to the touch and I’m pretty sure it’ll bruise. He closes his eyes and steps back, dropping his hands as he curls them into fists. I notice his knuckle is split and bleeding. I take a napkin off the next table and press it carefully to the wound.
“I’m fine.” I peer up at him and he sighs. “I’m fine,” he repeats.
***
I wake up to Park crawling through my bedroom window. He pauses when he sees I’m awake, one leg in, and one leg out. He holds up a paper bag. “I brought breakfast. Coffee and bagels.”
I sit up, smiling like an idiot. I can’t help but look at him like my own personal hero. The feminist in me recognizes what he did as being alpha male bullshit, but the woman in me thinks it’s hot. I actually think he handled it pretty well. He didn’t hit that guy until he had to. I only wish he had given me the chance to try and resolve the issue on my own before he jumped in.
“You brought me breakfast?”
He closes the window with one hand while juggling everything in the other. “Peace offering,” he says, shrugging. “Just in case you were pissed about last night.”
I pat the bed in front of me. Park’s eyes flick from my hand to my face, back and forth several times before he lowers himself and offers me a Styrofoam cup. He pops the lid off while I hold it and adds two sugars and a creamer. When he looks inside the bag for something to stir it with I close my gaping mouth. How the hell he knew how I like my coffee is a mystery to me. The fact that he cared to know makes my stomach twist.
He gives me butterflies.
“I thought they put something in here…” he trails off and I pull myself out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze to my leg, folded beneath me. The sheet’s only covering half my body and I adjust it. And then I realize why he’s staring. I usually sleep in shorts, but it got too stuffy last night. I ended up just wearing my tank top and panties.
“I’ll go get a spoon,” he says, lifting his eyes to meet mine. But he doesn’t get up. My heart starts racing and my body is screaming at him to kiss me—my brain is worried about morning breath.
He closes his eyes. His long lashes rest on his high cheek bones. My gaze trails over his perfect face, resting on the purple bruise. I suck air through my teeth and his eyes flick open.
“Does it hurt?”
His brows draw together and his mouth opens in surprise. “Unbelievably,” he murmurs.
I release the sheet from my death grip and he watches my movement as I hesitantly bring my hand up to his jaw. I trace the tips of my fingers over the swollen skin. It’s rough from not shaving and it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.
Park’s breath shudders out, blowing against my neck and goose bumps explode across every inch of my skin. I shiver. And then, as he witnesses my reaction, he shivers.
Oh, my God.
My fingers pause on his warm skin. I bring my palm up, cupping the side of his face and without consciously making the decision, my thumb caresses his lips. His eyes capture mine as he trails his tongue over the length of my finger and closes his mouth around it.
I gasp. My whole body goes hot and need rages through my core, shooting out to all the essential places. For a moment, I think, screw it. He can add me to his bed post, his belt, his little black book, and any other place he wants me.
I tug slightly, putting pressure down on his teeth, and wrapping my other fingers around his chin. I guide him toward me, pulling until the back of my thumb is touching my own lips, and then I slide it out of his mouth. I feel the wetness from his tongue as my thumb skims across my lips and I lick at it automatically.
His hands are on the mattress, one on each side of my thighs, holding him from falling into me. He bunches them into the sheet. Our faces are less than half an inch apart.
Neither one of us moves. He’s staring at me with so much longing that it’s making it hard to breathe. He shakes his head, slowly at first, then with more resolution.
“I can’t,” he says gruffly. He’s backing away before I can make sense of his words. He clears his throat and opens the window. “Enjoy your breakfast, Lucy.”
I watch him leave, my full name playing on a loop in my head.
12
Park
I’m on my way out when I bump into Lucy. She’s not paying attention as she works her fingers through her hair, taking the ever present braid out. She looks tired.
“Oh,” she gasps. “Sorry.”
I grin. “It’s okay.” It’s been two days since I nearly kissed her and I realize how much I missed this face, this voice, and this set of perfect lips.
“Hey, are you leaving?”
“Uh, yeah. I was going to head out for awhile.”
She bites her lip as she regards me. “Can you wait? Just like, five minutes? I have something for you, but I need to change real quick.” She spreads her arms out and I look at her uniform. The bottom half of her shirt is wet with a dark stain.
“Fountain machine went crazy today. I smell like root beer.”
I lean toward her and sniff, wrinkling my nose. “That’s not all you smell like,” I tease her. She actually smells good. She always does. “Take a shower. I can wait.” In the month and a half I’ve known her, Lucy has always showered after work “to get the grease smell out of her hair.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Nah. I was just going to grab a beer.” I see the flash in her eyes. Disapproval or disappointment. Definitely one of the dis words. We both know what I really mean. I was going to go get drunk and find a girl to stay with tonight. “No hurry,” I continue. “Just come find me when you’re done.”
She nods and I watch her bounce up the steps before going back inside. Jessie and Bree are watching a movie. By watching a movie, I mean there’s a movie playing while they make out on the couch. They
don’t even notice me pass by.
I go to my room, turn on some music, and lie back on my bed. Three songs later there’s a soft tapping at my door.
“It’s open.”
Lucy steps in and kicks the door closed behind her. Her hair is still down, but now it’s wet. It curls at her hips in a way that makes me want to wrap it around my fingers. Her cheeks are pink, her lips glossy. Fucking kissable. And she has on the tiniest God forsaken sleep shorts I’ve ever seen, showing off her incredible legs. I’m in my own personal Hell.
Stepping in front of me, she pulls one hand from behind her back. I take the book she extends to me. “It’s the second in the series you were reading the other night.”
“Umm, thanks, Lucy. That’s really nice of you.” I say it casually, but really, it means a lot to me. Not only did she pay attention to what book I was reading, but she took the time to go buy the next in the series for me. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. I’m not comfortable with a girl causing any emotion in me, especially when it stirs the ones I’ve kept buried.
“Well, it’s a backhanded gift. I’ve been wanting to read these books, and since you had the first, I thought if I got you the second you’d let me borrow them when you’re done.”
“Oh, I see. You’re one of those. You give the gifts you want.”
She grins and brings the other hand from behind her back. “Guilty,” she says holding out a six pack.
I chuckle, taking it from her. I gesture for her to take a seat on the opposite end of my bed then I pop the cap off a bottle and hand it to her. I retrieve the book from my nightstand and toss it in front of her before leaning back against the wall with my own beer and book.
“You keep bringing me gifts I might start thinking you actually like me.”
She blinks slowly and looks at the wall behind me. “I do like you, Park.”
My eyes roam over her face. Yeah. I know. Just haven’t figured out why, yet. “You’re growing on me, too.”
She smiles widely at me and takes a drink. “I needed this after the day I had.”
“What happened?”
“Besides the exploding fountain machine, two tables stiffed me after running me like an Alaskan sled dog, a girl didn’t show for her shift and we, of course, got slammed. I dumped a tray of drinks—on a table of customers, and my manager bitched me out after the customers were through yelling at me. That was on top of the normal shit that comes along with waitressing. For some reason, everything that goes wrong in a restaurant is the waitress’ fault. Did you know that?”
I nod. “Everyone knows that. It’s the waitress’s job to buy, prepare, and serve the food, right?” I wink at her and she laughs, shaking her head.
“We also apparently choose the menu, wash the dishes, set the thermostat, and pick the music. People can be so rude. It gets stressful sometimes.” She leans back on her elbow and I pull one of her legs up, taking her shoe off and resting her foot in my lap. She watches me, but doesn’t question my actions. I press my thumb into her arch and her head falls back as she moans.
I readjust her leg and shift my body. I’m afraid of how things would progress if she realized that noise made me go instantly hard. She’d probably jump out of my bed and make another excuse to get away from me. I’m not ready for her to go. I can’t take my eyes off her face, at the pleasure so evident in her features. It makes me want to please her so much more and I know we’re getting close to crossing a line.
I clear my throat and take another sip of beer. “What’s your major?”
Lucy raises a brow at me. I know it sounds like a lame-ass pick-up line, but I’m trying really hard to gain some control of myself here.
“General education so far. I’m still undecided.” She tips her bottle up and I watch her throat work as she swallows and my hand starts moving quicker on her foot. She sighs. “What about you?”
“What?”
“What’s your major?”
“Computer science,” I answer.
Lucy sits up and her gaze moves over me. “Computer science? Not something with music?” she asks not hiding her surprise.
I pull her other leg up and go to work on that foot. “Nope,” I say.
“Why not?”
I clench her heel in between both hands and she releases a breathy whimper. “Oh, my God. You’re really good at that.”
I grin at her. “That’s not all I’m good at.”
Her lips part as she stares at me. “Nice try,” she finally says. “Answer the question.”
I look away. “What question?”
She leans over the bed, setting her beer on the floor and picks up the book as she lies flat on her back. “The one you’re avoiding.” She peers at me as she flips a page. “If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so. You don’t need to deflect with sexual overtones.”
Damn. Just straight up calls me out on my shit.
That’s sexy as hell.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She presses her lips together and nods. “All right.” She returns her attention to the book and I watch her read for a while before I settle back and start on mine.
***
I snap the book closed with a yawn. Sitting up and stretching my arms above my head, I look down at Lucy’s sleeping form. Her long hair hangs off the end of the bed, her breathing is steady, relaxed. I watch her chest rise and fall. And then I hurry to cover her up because even unconscious, she still turns me on.
I want to crawl over her, burry my hands in that hair, and let my mouth learn the shape of her body.
Fuck.
I rub my face, refusing to look at her again. I flip the lamp off and lie down, facing away from temptation.
I know for a fact that all I would have to do is run my hands up her legs with the right amount of pressure. She would probably turn into my touch. One caress over the right body part would have her begging for me in her sleepy state.
I am a fucking creep. I should wake her up and tell her to run.
Jessie fucked with my head the moment he said I couldn’t have her. All I can think about is getting balls deep inside the girl. I want her taste in my mouth, her sweat on my chest, her scent on my sheets, her moans echoing off my walls. I want to look into her eyes as I make her come.
Lucy rolls, hooking her leg over mine and I go still. My entire body is begging for me to stroke my fingers over her smooth skin.
Fuck. Mother fucker. Mother fucking shit.
I hate Jessie. I loathe him with everything I am right now. I can’t take this torture anymore.
I think I need to look into finding a new place to live. Soon. Very fucking soon.
13
Lucy
“Hey,” Park says when I sit up. I blink against the sunlight a few times, groan, then flop back, pulling the cover over my head.
I hear his low, sexy chuckle and try not to shiver. He pulls the blanket out of my hand, allowing it to slide down my body slowly, almost teasingly. It’s like a soft caress that has me instantly turned on. “Lucy,” he says huskily. I peer at him out of one eye. But he’s not looking at my face. His gaze is glued to my body as he continues to drag the blanket further off me. He licks his lips and I can’t help my reaction to him. A chill runs over me. Goose bumps burst across my arms and legs, and my nipples tighten visibly. I’m thoroughly awake now.
Park makes a noise in his throat and finally meets my eyes. “Lucy,” he nearly chokes my name. “Please get out of my bed before I do something very fucking stupid.”
My breathing is erratic. My heart hammering in my chest. “How stupid?” I say thickly.
He moans and closes his eyes. “I don’t know,” he says softly. I can feel the desire in his stare when he finally looks at me. It’s pure hunger. “It’s starting to feel like the smartest move I could ever make.”
“Why,” I whisper.
He growls. Oh, my God, he growls and I lose all ability to breathe, or think, or…breathe. The blanket is
swept away and Park lowers himself until he’s hovering just above me. His arms lock on either side of my head. “I can’t control myself when I’m near you,” he mutters.
“Why do you try?”
His breathing races until it matches mine. He transfers his weight to one arm and traces his fingers over my face, from temple to chin. “Because you don’t do one night stands and I need a place to live.” And with that he pushes himself up, rolling away from me.
Right. Just a one night stand. That’s it. Nothing more. I’m so close to shouting that I’ve changed my mind. Hell, I’m close to begging him to demoralize and corrupt me all day long.
But that’s not who I am.
I stare at the ceiling for several heart beats, trying to regain some sense of control over my raging libido. “I have to pick my brothers up today,” I say, turning my head to look at him. He raises a brow, but doesn’t respond. “Do you want to come with me?”
Now his brows pull together and he shakes his head. “Why?”
I sit up and hug my legs to my chest. Park eyes my legs before sitting up beside me. “I like hanging out with you, Park,” I say honestly. “I know it’s dumb to you, and I’ll probably wind up being sorry, but I just…” I shake my head and bite my lip. “I want to be with you.”
His eyes narrow before he looks away. He glares at the floor for an awkward amount of time. The room is so full of his silence, thick with indecision, I nearly suffocate on it. I stand up, feeling stupid for opening my mouth. His fingers wrap around my wrist and he sighs loudly.
“What time are you leaving? I need a cold shower before I can go anywhere.”