“No. No. Coffee’s fine, but just so you know, you’re still not getting in my pants,” I tell him as I rise from my seat.
“I’d be disappointed if all it took was a cup of coffee, darlin’,” he says as he stands and moves toward the door before I can, blocking my exit.
I’m inches from him, my neck craned back, staring up at his handsome, rugged face, itching to see if the hair on his jawline is as coarse as it looks. “You wanna move?”
He shakes his head and doesn’t budge. He doesn’t reach out to touch me. He doesn’t do anything but stare down at me, making my heart flutter and my belly flip. “You feel it, don’t you?” he asks softly.
“Feel what?” I lie, somehow stopping my voice from cracking.
“The electricity. The connection. The whatever there is between us in this room now and last night.”
I wrinkle my nose, but I don’t look away. Show no fear. Give no information. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Dylan.”
“Rosie,” he whispers softly, making the flip in my belly turn into an Olympic sport. I don’t flinch as he reaches up, touching my jaw with the pad of his thumb so lightly goose bumps break out across my flesh. “You feel it.”
“I…” I start to say, but the words die as his hand falls back to his side and he slides out the door, leaving me standing in the consultation room alone.
“Fuck,” I hiss, bending over at the waist and placing my hands on my knees as if I’ve been sucker-punched in the gut. “This can’t be happening to me.”
I want Dylan Walsh. He knows it, and now I can’t deny it. There is an electricity between us, a connection I’m going to have a pretty hard time denying as long as he’s around.
I have only one way to stop anything from happening between us.
Distance.
“Rosie?” Gigi asks, her voice rising on the last syllable. “You okay? Did that guy do something wrong? Because I’ll totally go after him and beat his ass.”
I don’t rise, staying hunched over to avoid her gaze. “No. He didn’t do anything wrong, sis. He was fine. I just think I… I don’t know. Maybe I ate something bad or I’m getting sick. I don’t feel well suddenly.”
Her hand is on my back a second later, rubbing small circles like Mom did when we were little and didn’t feel well. “Why don’t you go home and rest? We’ll cover your customers or reschedule them.”
“But he’ll be back in thirty.”
“Big design?” she asks, still comforting me and my lying mouth.
“No. It’ll take two hours max depending on how intricate he wants to go.”
“What’s he want?” she asks.
I tell her the basics, but I do so standing up instead of staying crouched over like a weirdo. “You sure Pike has time?”
“For something that small, he can totally make it work before his next appointment. If not, one of us will handle it. I’d rather you go home and rest than overdo it and make yourself sicker.”
“You’re the best,” I tell her, feeling like a selfish asshole, but it is the only way I can think of to put that important distance between Dylan and me.
“Now, go. Get some rest and text me later.”
“I will,” I tell her, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you for this.”
“That’s what family is for, babe. We always have one another’s backs.”
If she only knew the real reason I was ditching, running away from the man who was bringing me coffee and was about to let me put pink flowers on his skin. “I got yours next time.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” She smiles.
I don’t waste any more time, grabbing my purse and phone, leaving my coffee behind. I’m out the door and in my car, running away like a coward.
3
ROSIE
“So, is there something you want to tell me?” Gigi asks over the phone, and her voice is filled with attitude. It’s the same tone I hear from my mother when she knows something but wants me to be the one to say it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I will die on this hill of deceit.
“The man who was here…”
“Was Pike able to squeeze him in?” I ask, still ignoring her fishing attempt.
“No,” she sighs. “He said he only wants you to do it.”
“Damn,” I whisper. “Did you put him on my schedule?”
Please say no. Please…
“Yeah. You had an opening tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, covering the phone with my hands so she doesn’t hear.
“Explain,” she says to me, because naturally, she heard what I said since, like my mother, the girl hears everything.
“About?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Rosie.”
“Gigi.”
“Dylan Walsh.”
“Oh, is that who that was? I had no idea.”
There’s silence. Not just normal silence, but the type where she’s waiting for me to give up on lying.
“He’s a paying customer, whether we like his family or not,” I tell her, surrendering.
“You knew who he was, and this wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him recently. He’s also the reason you faked that you were about to shit your pants or throw up and ran out of here like your ass was literally on fire.”
“That’s not true.”
“Dylan was never my friend, but we had a brief chat when he came back and you weren’t here. I’m telling you right now… Do not get involved with that man.”
“I’m not. Jesus.” I collapse back onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling, throwing my arm over my face.
“Um, he came here looking for you. Only you. What aren’t you telling me?” she inquires, not giving up.
“Nothing. I ran into him at a bar. He talked to me for a total of five minutes, and that was it. He showed up today and threw me for a loop. I made it quite clear that I wanted nothing to do with him, Giovanna.”
“He wants something to do with you, and Dad will have a massive coronary. He hates that family, and Dad likes everyone.”
“I had a really bad date, and Dylan was at the bar while I nursed a martini. We talked. I left. That was it.”
“He’s cute, though, isn’t he?”
“He’s okay,” I reply.
“Okay? He was okay in high school. Now he’s all badass biker, throwing off those sexy alpha vibes that would draw in almost every chick within a ten-mile radius. He’s more than okay, Rosie. He’s downright dangerously handsome.”
“He’s also a Walsh and a no-go. I don’t care how fucking hot he is or how much he makes my belly flip, it’s never going to happen.”
She gasps. “He makes your belly flip?”
“It means nothing,” I mutter into the crook of my arm.
“Pike, Dylan makes Rosie’s belly flip,” she tells her husband, blowing everything way out of proportion. Another skill she picked up from our mother.
“Oh boy,” Pike mumbles in the background. “Do I have to kick his ass?”