Page 5 of The Year of Us: March

The answer to that used to be an unequivocal no. But, now, something had shifted inside me and I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Sometimes.” Thankfully, our sushi arrived and Reese didn’t have a chance to ask me to explain. It was as close to the truth as I was willing to go, because I wasn’t ready to admit how meeting Reese had changed my life yet, and I didn’t think he was ready to hear it either.

CHAPTER 4

Reese

“I thinkI might like sushi after all,” Cory said, his chin tilted back so he could whisper up into my ear. I turned my head to the side and smiled down at him, tongue worrying a smear of soy sauce left in the corner of my mouth. His stare immediately darted to my lip, his nostrils flaring as I tucked my tongue away.

“The sushi or the sake?” I asked.

“Well.” Cory gave me a lazy smile. “Definitely not the whiskey.”

I huffed out an amused laugh, reaching for the bill before he could get his hands on it. But even though he was smaller than me in every way, he had catlike reflexes and had the leather tray in his hand before I could even get close.

“You’re a snob,” I told him. “But thank you for dinner.”

Cory dropped a shiny black credit card on top of the bill. “I should be thanking you. I would have considered sushi nothing better than gas station food if it weren’t for you.”

“I think that’s being generous.”

“I am,” he said, angling his entire body toward mine and lowering his voice. “I’m very generous, Reese. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I didn’t think we were talking about whiskey and who was paying the bill anymore.

“Maybe too generous,” I said softly, remembering he’d basically gotten me off to the point of unconsciousness in February.

“I don’t think there’s such a thing.”

Ruby was back with the slip for Cory to sign before I’d even realized she’d taken it, and then the two of us were in front of the restaurant, shivering slightly from the early spring breeze.

“I think it’s safe to assume I’m a sure thing,” Cory said, smiling up at me and crossing his arms in front of his chest to stay warm.

“Of course you are.” I wanted to reach for him, wrap him into my arms and smell him again.

We’d enjoyed dinner together, but it was the first time I’d seen him in a month and the sight of him was already triggering every kind of involuntary response I had. Cory meant skin and sweat and cum and a battle for power. He meant aching muscles and smooth skin and a complicated mess of feelings I’d still made no progress on unraveling. I’d talked with Morgan about it briefly, but she only ever gave me an amused sort of bobble-head smile whenever it came up, like she was privy to a secret just out of my reach.

“Are you going to invite me back to your place?” he asked.

I choked a little, taking half a step back. “Mine?”

Cory shrugged, trying to appear casual. “I’m happy to go back to the hotel if you’re aching for expensive sheets and room service.”

“It’s not that,” I said quickly, trying my best to backpedal. “I just…I assumed.”

“Is this your way of saying your place isn’t fit for company?” He cocked his head to the side. “Or do you have roommates?”

“Two people barely fit in my apartment for a weekend, let alone a long-term situation.” I winced as the words left my mouth, aware of how they must sound.

“Do you work tomorrow night?”

“At seven,” I answered.

Cory checked his watch. “Then we only need to worry about two people fitting in there for, say…sixteen hours at best.”

I exhaled heavily, reaching up to nervously rub the side of my nose. “It’s a mess.”

“I don’t mind.”