Page 20

IT WAS HALF PAST THREE in the morning, and The Sherrington's library was the only on-site facility that was still open.

.. and happened to welcome minors like me.

The wall-lined shelves were fully stocked, and their fiction selection wasn't bad at all.

Even better, they also offered round-the-clock drink service, and I ordered myself a cup of coffee to make sure I was up until seven.

I was already a few chapters in with the latest Pendergast novel when I heard the room attendant murmur a greeting. I glanced up, curious to see what kind of person would also prefer hitting the library rather than going clubbing or drinking at this time of the night (day?)—-

Oh. My. God.

I quickly raised my book up to hide my face while peeking over it.

Tall. Dark. Handsome.

I watched the stranger unfold his length into one of the leather recliners after picking a book from the bestseller selection, and another three-word-phrase flashed in my mind.

Hot. Dude. Reading.

It was the name of one of my favorite Instagram accounts, and as their handle suggested, its feed was populated by photos of beautiful men reading in public.

Just like Mr. Recliner .

I quickly abandoned my seat and transferred to the closest vacant table across him, shameless in my need to gawk more at my new favorite "view".

His good looks were emphatically rugged: dark, prominent brows, deep-set eyes, and a chiseled jaw.

He was very much a man, the way all the guys I had swiped-left on were not, and I especially loved how deeply bronzed his skin was, which made a line from the Ghostbusters theme song suddenly pop up in my head.

I'm afraid of no ghost...

But instead, I found myself silently singing, I'm afraid of no sun, and the rephrased line had me giggling out loud.

Eep!

I quickly hid my face behind my book while composing myself, hoping that the sound didn't draw his attention and make him think I was this childish idiot he was better off avoiding. What was wrong with me?

Unlike most girls my age, I could usually handle myself around the opposite sex, but it wasn't because I was frigid or batted for a different team.

The guys I knew just didn't meet my ideal, which until this day, ran more along the lines of beautiful, preppy-looking boys who went for slacks rather than jeans and preferred cars over bikes.

City-sleek and wholesome, that had always been my type, and Mr. Recliner with his cowboy hat, denim jacket, and boots was anything but.

And yet...

I just couldn't stop staring at him, and before I knew it, I already had my phone out.

Just one photo, I promised myself.

But before I could hit Click , the room attendant had suddenly blocked my view and flashed me a kind smile as he gestured towards a sign on the wall.

NO PHOTOS ALLOWED

Oops!

I returned his smile sheepishly. "Sorry." I obediently dropped my phone back into my jacket's pocket, but as soon as the waiter moved away, I quickly peeked at Mr. Recliner's direction in hopes that he hadn't noticed my stupid little misstep—-

What?

I rubbed my eyes, but the leather recliner he had been occupying earlier remained empty.

Where did he go?

It had only been mere seconds - less than a minute, tops - since I last saw him.

How could he have disappeared so fast?

I turned around without thinking, feeling a strangely frantic urge to look for him, and the moment I looked behind me, I nearly fell out of my chair.

Mr. Recliner...had turned into Mr. Chair!

Or rather, he was suddenly seated on the table behind me, muscular arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze narrowed sharply at my direction.

"Looking for me?"

His voice was as perfectly rugged as the rest of him and too impossibly sensual to resist. I found myself playing Musical Chairs all by my lonesome as I moved to my third seat for the night, and I noticed Mr. Recliner's dark brows pleating with a surprised frown when I took a seat across him.

"Hi." I flashed him a dimpled smile and barely managed to resist the urge to bat my lashes at him. "I'm Sarah." This close, I couldn't help but notice how he was even more gorgeous than I thought possible, with extraordinarily long lashes framing eyes that were the dreamiest shade of blue.

"Damian." His voice was curt, but his blue eyes had turned strangely watchful, almost if he was waiting for me to react, and I tried not to squirm in my seat as a worrying thought occurred to me. Oh no. What if he was a celebrity, and I had just offended him by not recognizing who he was?

Think, Sarah, think!

I started mentally running through the list of famous people I knew, which unfortunately wasn't much since I preferred to spend most of my time with fictional 2D ones.

Let's start with A to Z for country singers, Sarah.

Could he be the one who sang Old Town Road with Billy Ray Cyrus.

What was his name again? Lil...Wayne? Or could he be.

..a bandmade of Nicole Kidman's husband?

That guy sang country, didn't he? And his name was.

..Kevin...Nash? Garnett? No, wait. That guy was blond, and his name wasn't Kevin, but Keith something—-

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

Still in the midst of trying to remember Nicole Kidman's baby daddy's surname, the question completely caught me off guard, and I blurted out the first thing in my mind. "Only if you're in it—-"

Oh my God, if looks could kill, I would be so, so dead by now!

"I'm kidding," I said quickly. "Just kidding!"

He was still scowling at me, but....

Was that...was he...

My eyes widened, and I rubbed my eyes again, but it was still there, and there was no mistaking the dark flush that had stained the aristocratic panes of his cheeks.

Oh my God.

And almost as if he could read my mind, Damian started glaring at me as well.

"Did I just—-"

"Don't even think about it," he warned.

"Make you blush?"

"The hell you did."

"But—-" I pointed gingerly to his cheeks.

"I've been drinking," he said shortly.

"Um." I couldn't help casting a dubious look at the tea set on his table, which was as classic as it went, with his porcelain cup filled with Earl Grey tea.

"Believe what you want," he snapped.

"Then I believe you like me," I teased.

His lip curled. "You'd like that, don't you?"

"Very much."

"Unfortunately...you're wrong."

Leaning forward, I whispered, "I think you're lying."

Damian leaned forward as well, but instead of whispering, he replied in a perfectly succinct voice, "I think you're crazy."

I barely managed to hold my laughter back. " Oh no ." I clutched at my chest as I leaned back against my seat. "I think you just made me fall in love with you."

And this time, I saw it.

"Aha!"

It disappeared as soon as I spoke, of course, but by then it was too late.

"I know what I saw," I told him smugly, "and I totally made you smile."

"You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not." My singsong tone had his lips twitching, but this time I knew better than to point it out.

"Do you live around here?" Although I genuinely wanted to know more about him, I was also hoping that little twitch would eventually turn into a smile, which I was willing to bet would be heartbreakingly sexy. "You do, right?"

He grunted.

"I'll take that as a yes, and since you live around here, you probably work around here, too, so..." I studied the way he was dressed as I tried to guess what his occupation was. "I'm guessing you do some kind of ranch work?"

Another grunt, but he also reached for his book at the same time and started making a show of reading it. Too bad for him, though, I was too thick-skinned (and crushing on him too hard) to care. "I don't know much about ranching," I told him, "so if I'm wrong about this, don't laugh—-"

"No."

"I haven't—-"

"Being a cowboy isn't a job title."

Oh my gosh.

Did he just read my mind?

The lengthening silence seemed to prompt Damian into looking up, and he let out an exasperated sound when he saw the way I was staring at him.

"That's it, you know," I told him seriously. "That's the sign we're meant to be. It's serendipity—-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"It is—-"

"Past your bedtime," he cut me off with a pointed look at my wristwatch. "That's what it is."

"Stop treating me like a kid," I protested with a pout. "I'm eighteen, not eight."

"There doesn't appear to be any difference," he retorted, "with the way you're—-" He broke off when I shot out of my seat. "Where—-" He stopped speaking again as I slid into the seat next to him and pressed close, enough to have my already straining breasts brush against his arm.

" There ." The breathless note of my voice didn't surprise me at all, considering how hard and fast my heart was beating. "Is there a difference—-"

"Are you like this with every guy?" Damian gritted out.

I quickly shook my head, wide-eyed and breathless at the heat suddenly blazing from his eyes.

"Don't lie," he growled.

I shook my head again, saying vehemently, "I'm not!" And it was the truth. "I promise—-"

"So why me?" he demanded roughly.

"I d-don't know—-"

Damian cursed under his breath, and I jerked in surprise.

"I can feel your nipples, dammit." The heat in his eyes smoldered into a sensual blaze as he spoke, and oh God...

A whimper escaped me as I felt my nipples tighten and poke harder against his arm.

Oooooh.

The look in his glittering blue eyes was feral now, and he looked like he wanted to eat me alive.

"This is fucking crazy, damn you."

I just kept shaking my head. It was the only thing I felt capable of doing, my mind no longer functioning properly. No guy...just no guy had ever made me feel this way before, and I could barely keep myself still on my seat.

" Goddammit ."

But even as he kept cursing the situation we found ourselves in, he didn't move away, and I didn't fail to notice the way his nostrils flared the moment he saw me nervously licking my lips.

Whether he admitted it or not, he wanted this, too, and the realization made me feel heady and ache in places that had never ached before.

"Serendipity," I whispered. Heaven had blown me another kiss, and it was pointing to Damian's direction.

"Fuck serendipity."

And Damian shot out of his seat, leaving me to gape in surprise as he strode away without even looking back.

"Wait!"

But he was already out of the lounge room, and I found myself running after him.

"Will you please wait?"

He was angry. That was obvious enough, and while I had a feeling I was the one who made him angry, I had no idea how that happened.

"Damian, please!"

He was only several steps away from the hotel elevators now while I still had a few meters to catch up to. I started to run...but ended up gasping out as I crashed into another hotel guest. The guy had just entered the lobby, and if not for his quick reflexes, I'd have completely fallen on my butt.

"Whoa." The stranger helped me regain my balance and I rubbed my temple, which seriously hurt. "Are you alright?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but it was Damian's icy voice that responded to him first.

"She's fine."

My head jerked up as long strong fingers curled around my wrist, and I only caught a glance of the other guy's bemused expression...just before Damian started dragging me towards the elevators.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly as we stepped inside the first elevator that opened its doors.

Instead of answering, he asked sharply, "Are you alright?"

I beamed up at him. "Did I make you worry?"

"Just answer the question," he snarled.

"You are worried!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"And jeal—- oww! " I ended up yelping in pain when he suddenly pinched my cheeks. "That hurt!"

"Good."

"Good?" I was once again staring up at him, wide-eyed. " I'm hurt, and it's good? " I shook my head in wonderment. "Does that mean you're a sadist? Or does that make you a Dom?"

"What the hell?"

"I'm cool with either," I told him helpfully. "Whether you need me to be an M or a sub—-"

His hand covered my mouth, and as I blinked at him, he hissed, "Will you shut up? You're going to get me arrested if you keep talking like that."

"But there's no one around," I protested as soon as his hand left my mouth.

"You shouldn't get used to talking like that either way," he muttered.

"But I'm right, aren't I?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You like me."

"No, I—-"

Impatient at his stubborn refusal to acknowledge the burning truth between us, I decided to just do it ala Michael Jordan and take The Shot.

So I stood on my toes and kissed him.