“Parker’s doing us a solid.”
“You two finally call a truce?”
He shrugs. “She hasn’t poisoned my food lately.”
“Don’t get cocky, you’ve been absent.”
“I’m here now, and you’ve got seconds before I snap. Hurry up, baby, I’m fucking dying.”
I gather my books as he darts his eyes toward the door and then leans in.
“No, Troy, we can’t. Not here.”
“Then hurry up,” he grits out, his voice molten. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for ten minutes alone with you in this room.”
I gather my bag and toss it over my shoulder, not giving a damn about what I might’ve missed. “How did you even get in here?” I ask, unable to hide my elation as we both walk down the hall at a manic pace.
“Sweet talk.”
“Poor girl.”
He sighs. “Wasn’t a girl.”
“Damn,” I laugh, “you went there, huh?”
He pushes the door open and ushers me out. “There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you, Ms. A.”
In Troy’s truck, I study him as he drives. He’s so fucking handsome, so masculine, and yet I find myself completely floored with how different his personality is in comparison to all his perfection. He’s the first to admit when he’s wrong. The first one to take others into consideration. Sure, he’s cocky but only to a point. He’s never played indifferent to the feelings of others, especially his son’s. Troy isn’t the reason women stereotype, he’s the exception. You don’t have to dig deep to see his layers. He’ll gladly lift his armor to show you what lays beneath, you need only ask.
The most dangerous people are the ones you let get close, only to reveal their Gemini side once you’ve confessed or given them a lot more of yourself than you should’ve. Troy’s the opposite of that type, giving you only enough to draw your conclusions before subtly blowing you away with his depth, the beauty of his strength, the inner workings of his heart. I’ve seen his anger, his temper, I’ve seen his lows, the good and the bad, and none of it has changed my opinion of him.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I’m lucky,” I say without hesitation. “That I’m so lucky you’re mine.” He turns to me, his eyes filling with emotion as I tell him my truth. “You’ve surprised me, Troy. In the best way.” He stares at me for long seconds and then pulls his truck over at a bustling car wash. “What’s going on here?”
“Quick stop. I want to give you something.”
He plucks his phone from the console before jumping out of his truck, cornering his hood, opening my door, and hauling me into his arms. We hold each other for long seconds while he strokes my back, running his fingers through my hair before pulling away to smile down at me.
“Welcome home.”
“Home looks so beautiful.”
I look up at him through my lashes. “What are we doing?”
He leans past me, turning up the volume in his truck.
“Putting our dance lessons to good use.”
“Here? Are you crazy?”
“Shhh…” he says, tapping play on his phone before pulling me back in his hold, just as Ray LaMontagne starts to croon “Hold You in My Arms.”
“This isn’t embarrassing at all,” I nervously giggle as a few people tirelessly scrubbing their cars glance over at us like the love-crazed weirdos we’ve become.
“I’m up here,” he says softly while tilting my chin up with his finger.
“So, the car wash, huh? Does this often work with the ladies?”