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“It’s probably best, don’t you think?”

“Best for whom?”

Have I ever said how sexy I find it when men know how to use an objective pronoun? My knees get weak, but I manage to steady myself . . .by latching onto his arm.“Sorry,” I reply breathlessly. “I think the alcohol has gone to my head. I should have taken you up on the offer of food.”

“It’s not too late. Offer still stands.”

Soooo tempting.

I knead his bicep like a kitten on a scratch post and then take another step back, knowing the rum is starting to overrun all rational thought, or worse, control my libido. Only bad things happen when I follow my hormones instead of listening to my head. “I appreciate it, but I should call it a night. Early flight and all.”

“That’s too bad.”

His gaze lingers on me before glancing over his shoulder. “I’m down this hall.”

“I’m down that one.”

“Opposite directions.”

“Seems that way.” Dread begins to deteriorate the thrill he had me feeling. I know what I should be doing, but my feet refuse to walk away. I sigh, staring down at the gold threads running through the heel of my shoes. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I like that neither of us makes a quick escape, but I wish he’d give me a reason to stay. I mean other than asking to buy me dinner and keep me company.Ugh.I’m really starting to hate my responsible side. I swallow down my apprehension and say, “Goodbye, Nick.”

The distance grows between us, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. “Goodbye.”

A beat or two passes before I turn to leave, walking with purpose down the corridor.

“Hey, Natalie?”

Happiness bubbles inside me, and I whip around. “Yes?”

“I’m in room 203 if you’re ever in the neighborhood or need a lift.”

It’s so easy for him to make me smile. Not sure how he does it, but I can’t let alcohol dictate my decisions. Nothing good ever comes of that, including two ex-boyfriends I wish I’d never met.

With Nick, I may not be drunk, but I do wish I’d met him under different circumstances. “I appreciate that, but I don’t think I’m getting on two wheels again anytime soon.”

Smugly curling in an arm, he smirks. “I meant me.” It’s low-key bragging, but with him, I can let it slide because if I was giggling before, now I’m full-on blushing.

My chest gives me away with heavy breaths. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again for the ride,” I reply, memorizing that grin that gravitates to meet the dimple in his cheek and the scruff that took a solid day or two to grow. The windswept brown curls that formed from the helmet are tempting me to run my fingers through them. He’s just so . . .gah.

When I look at him, really look at him like I am now, I know I should be embarrassed by my rejected kiss, but I think I’m the lucky one now. If he’d returned it, I’d still be lost in the feel of his fullness pressed to mine, our lips sating a desire I feel even now.

No, he won’t be easy to forget.

No one-night stands with hot guys.

No man-crazy crap anymore for me. I’ll leave that to Tatum. I need to focus on myself and my needs this time around. Exhaling, I’m set in my stance and start walking again. “Good night.”

“Suddenly, it’s not feeling so good.”

I turn back, too hopeful, considering nothing can come of this.Damn those dimples.I knew better than to look. “What isn’t?”

“The parting ways thing we’re doing.” The smile disappears as he looks down, seeming to search the Saltillo tiles under our feet. When his eyes find mine again, he says, “I’ll see you around.” It’s not a question or an invitation. Just a statement put out there to settle in the air between us.

“Look on the bright side. Next time, we won’t be strangers.”

A light chuckle vibrates through him. “Yeah. Next time . . .”