my costume.
“I’m fine.” I sat up, brushed myself off, and picked up the rose he’d given me, now crushed on the grass. Luckily the glass had given me only superficial cuts.
Hulk plowed through the crowd and ran off.
“Wait!” I screamed after him, but he was gone. I dashed out of the backyard, through the house, and onto the front lawn. Hulk stormed down the street.
“Hey, wait up!”
He didn’t turn his head, and I wasn’t even sure he heard me. He just kept on walking and made a right at the end of the block.
I should’ve let him go—he obviously wanted to be alone and had just had some sort of trigger—but I wanted to make sure he was okay.
I flicked off my heels, threw them and the rose into my purse, and ran down the street. I finally caught up to him as he was using his key to enter an apartment building.
I slowly placed my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry I yelled. I was just a little scared. Do you want to go back to the party with me?”
His head turned to me. I wished I could rip that damn mask off of his head and read his expression. “No,” he said, his breath labored. His hands fidgeted, and then he crossed his arms.
Cars whizzed by the street, drowning out our silence. This guy was obviously going through something. Sure, I’d just met him, but after failing to detect all the signs of my mother’s depression, I’d made a vow to never turn my back on someone in need.
We stood there in awkward silence. “Did you have a war flashback?”
“Something like that. I’m fine.”
He did not seem fine. His voice was shaking and he flinched at my touch.
“It’s okay. I mean my mom used to have episodes. I’m not judging you. Do you want to talk?”
“I said I’m fine. I need to relax. I don’t do well in big groups of people. I should’ve never gone to that party.” He exhaled and his shoulders dropped. Then his chin tilted up, and he placed his hand on my back. “But then, I would’ve never met you.”
Ah. The charm was back.
“I’m glad you went.”
His lips grazed my ear. “Come upstairs with me.”
Whoa, arrogant much? In any other situation, I would’ve run for the hills. Despite my reputation in Hollywood, I’d never gone home with a guy whom I’d just met. “I don’t think going up to your place is a good idea.”
He leaned into me, his firm hand tracing mine. “It’s the best idea I’ve had all night.”
His body was now pressed into mine, and I could feel his rock-solid cock poke through his shorts.
Ah, damn. I knew what he wanted—and I’d be lying to myself if I said a part of me didn’t ache for him too. Lust aside, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I walked away from him now. I needed to be assured he was okay.
But I wasn’t stupid—I recognized that I didn’t know this man. I wanted to just talk to him, somewhere safe, somewhere public. “Do you want to grab some coffee with me? There’s a café a block away. Or if you’re hungry, there’s this great hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant around the corner.”
“I’m not going anywhere but home. And you’re coming with me.”
Damn. I should’ve told him off but the ache between my legs compelled me to stay.
“But…I don’t even know your name.” Nor had I seen his face. I refused to walk away without getting a glimpse of the man behind the mask.
His fist clenched. “Are you coming upstairs or not?”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, but just for a bit. My friend’s at the party.”
His head tilted to the side. “I didn’t see you with a friend.”
“Yeah, well, she ditched me when I got there.”
“Some friend.”
Hulk had a point. Even so, I took out my phone and texted Marisol my location just in case I ended up in a bad situation.
We walked upstairs to the second floor, and he opened his apartment door. His place was masculine and modern—IKEA-style black furniture, a huge flat-screen television, and a small balcony with a tiny barbecue. Instead of
“I’m fine.” I sat up, brushed myself off, and picked up the rose he’d given me, now crushed on the grass. Luckily the glass had given me only superficial cuts.
Hulk plowed through the crowd and ran off.
“Wait!” I screamed after him, but he was gone. I dashed out of the backyard, through the house, and onto the front lawn. Hulk stormed down the street.
“Hey, wait up!”
He didn’t turn his head, and I wasn’t even sure he heard me. He just kept on walking and made a right at the end of the block.
I should’ve let him go—he obviously wanted to be alone and had just had some sort of trigger—but I wanted to make sure he was okay.
I flicked off my heels, threw them and the rose into my purse, and ran down the street. I finally caught up to him as he was using his key to enter an apartment building.
I slowly placed my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry I yelled. I was just a little scared. Do you want to go back to the party with me?”
His head turned to me. I wished I could rip that damn mask off of his head and read his expression. “No,” he said, his breath labored. His hands fidgeted, and then he crossed his arms.
Cars whizzed by the street, drowning out our silence. This guy was obviously going through something. Sure, I’d just met him, but after failing to detect all the signs of my mother’s depression, I’d made a vow to never turn my back on someone in need.
We stood there in awkward silence. “Did you have a war flashback?”
“Something like that. I’m fine.”
He did not seem fine. His voice was shaking and he flinched at my touch.
“It’s okay. I mean my mom used to have episodes. I’m not judging you. Do you want to talk?”
“I said I’m fine. I need to relax. I don’t do well in big groups of people. I should’ve never gone to that party.” He exhaled and his shoulders dropped. Then his chin tilted up, and he placed his hand on my back. “But then, I would’ve never met you.”
Ah. The charm was back.
“I’m glad you went.”
His lips grazed my ear. “Come upstairs with me.”
Whoa, arrogant much? In any other situation, I would’ve run for the hills. Despite my reputation in Hollywood, I’d never gone home with a guy whom I’d just met. “I don’t think going up to your place is a good idea.”
He leaned into me, his firm hand tracing mine. “It’s the best idea I’ve had all night.”
His body was now pressed into mine, and I could feel his rock-solid cock poke through his shorts.
Ah, damn. I knew what he wanted—and I’d be lying to myself if I said a part of me didn’t ache for him too. Lust aside, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I walked away from him now. I needed to be assured he was okay.
But I wasn’t stupid—I recognized that I didn’t know this man. I wanted to just talk to him, somewhere safe, somewhere public. “Do you want to grab some coffee with me? There’s a café a block away. Or if you’re hungry, there’s this great hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant around the corner.”
“I’m not going anywhere but home. And you’re coming with me.”
Damn. I should’ve told him off but the ache between my legs compelled me to stay.
“But…I don’t even know your name.” Nor had I seen his face. I refused to walk away without getting a glimpse of the man behind the mask.
His fist clenched. “Are you coming upstairs or not?”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, but just for a bit. My friend’s at the party.”
His head tilted to the side. “I didn’t see you with a friend.”
“Yeah, well, she ditched me when I got there.”
“Some friend.”
Hulk had a point. Even so, I took out my phone and texted Marisol my location just in case I ended up in a bad situation.
We walked upstairs to the second floor, and he opened his apartment door. His place was masculine and modern—IKEA-style black furniture, a huge flat-screen television, and a small balcony with a tiny barbecue. Instead of
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