Page 134 of Things We Hide from the Light

He dipped his head, then stopped just shy of my mouth, his nose brushing my cheek.

His hands circled my biceps and slid all the way down to my wrists. “Then why does it feel so right to touch you?” he rasped.

I almost melted against him. Almost threw every principle out the window and jumped into his spiteful arms. I didn’t understand it any better than he did. There was a flaw in my DNA that made his touch feel like home.

My heart was pounding against my ribs. Fight or flight. I wanted to choose fight. I wanted to give myself over to the anger and let it come spilling out. I wanted to see what would happen if we erupted together.

But that wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore.

As much as my body wanted the seething, angry man before me, my head knew it was a mistake.

“Stay away from me, Nash,” I said, mustering the frost of Antarctica in my tone.

“I’ve tried.” The admission was like an illicit caress.

“Try harder.” I yanked my hands free. In a moment of petty spite that felt damn good, I shoulder checked him on my way out the door.

“Couldn’t helpbut notice you and Nash haven’t been enjoying any sleepovers lately,” Mrs. Tweedy announced as she tossed a box of wine into the cart next to the value pack of canned tuna and the baker’s dozen of almost expired donuts.

You could tell a lot about a person by the contents of their grocery cart. Mrs. Tweedy’s cart screamed “chaos.”

“You certainly see a lot from that peephole,” I said. I was still feeling hot, bothered, and ragey from my run-in with Nash at thegym. I wasn’t sure five minutes in the ice cream freezer would be enough to cool me off.

“Don’t dodge me. My nose is already fully invested in your business. Y’all stand next to each other in a room and suddenly it feels like something’s about to explode. In a sexy way.” She added a six-pack of light beer to her grocery haul.

“Yeah, well. We’re not the kind of people who should even dabble at being together,” I said. We couldn’t even stand next to each other without it spiraling out of control.

The physical draw I felt to Nash was like a gravitational field. Inevitable. It had the power to overcome all the very excellent reasons why I should stay away from him, the number one reason being he was an order-giving, emotionally damaged dick.

“What’s not to like? He’s got a good head on his shoulders, he can shoot like a cowboy, he rescues dogs,andhe’s got a butt that don’t quit in those uniform pants. My pal Gladys drops her purse every time she sees him just so he’ll bend down to pick it up.”

“He also sees everything in black and white, acts like he has the right to tell me what to do, and manhandles me.”

“I know this is not politically correct, but I love me a good consensual manhandling,” Mrs. Tweedy said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Okay, I didn’t hate it either. If anyone other than Nash had dragged me into that room at the gym, they’d be breathing through a straw in the waiting room of a plastic surgeon. But I didn’t feel like thinking about that. Instead, I grabbed a jar of peanut butter and threw it into the cart.

“He’s also got that whole broody thing going right now. Like the man’s got storm clouds in his head and he’s just lookin’ for a little sunshine.”

“Yeah, well, he can go find his vitamin D someplace else.”

And so would I. Ha. Solid inner monologue dick joke.

My elderly shopping partner tut-tutted. “Two people who keep gettin’ drawn together like magnets can’t be wrong. It’s a law of nature.”

“Nature made a mistake this time around,” I assured her and added a carton of sparkling water to our cart.

Mrs. Tweedy shook her head. “You’re looking at it all wrong. Sometimes the body recognizes what the head and heart are too stupid to see. That right there is real truth. The body don’t lie. Huh. Maybe I should put that on a bumper sticker?” she mused.

“I’d much rather trust my head than my body.” Especially since my body seemed to be set on self-destruct mode. I’d never been so attracted to a man so infuriating before.

It was disorienting, frustrating, and borderline sadomasochistic. Yet another sign that I needed to commit to changing my ways. That was the message the universe was sending me, notHey, here’s a hot guy. Get naked with him and everything will work out.

Mrs. Tweedy snorted indelicately. “If I had your body, I’d be listening to every damn thing it said.”

“I seem to recall your body kicking my body’s ass at the gym half an hour ago,” I reminded her.

She fluffed her hair as we turned into the cereal aisle. “I do look pretty good for my age.”