Making my way down Broadway, I’m about to turn the corner when I hear something.
It’s a girl. “Hello? Open the door. Come on. Please.” She’s soaked to the skin. She’s pressing an intercom button by the door. “Hello?” She holds the button down for a few seconds, then gives up. “I can’t believe this.”
As she turns to look at me, I can see that she’s crying.
Not again.
But I stop walking. To get a better look.
Her eyes are the brightest color green I’ve ever seen. Her hair is long and wet, hanging straight until it reaches past her shoulders, where it coils into loose, cheerful ringlets. Light smudges around her eyes give her a sultry look, and it’s a sexiness she’s completely unaware of. Her lips are full and pink, perfectly-shaped, with a wet plumpness that hits me right where I live. At the sight of her soft mouth, without warning, my cock thickens. Fuck. Lately I’ve been so mired in my own unhappiness that I’ve been uncharacteristically … calm. But my calmness has suddenly and jarringly faded out.
I will myself not to get a raging fucking hard-on, but the tidal wave of relief and straight-to-the-gut bedazzlement she’s hitting me with is the most forceful thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Or maybe ever.
I’m alive, she’s reminding me. I’m hot and I’m overflowing with hunger and cravings that’ll break every rule and ignite the kind of pleasure you’ll never recover from.
Damn.
She’s achingly pretty.
And she’s kind. You can read that about her. She’s quirky and empathetic, with a fun, eccentric edge. I don’t know how I get all that with one glance but I do.
“Are you all right?” I ask her, though clearly she isn’t.
“I’m fine.” She’s wary. She’s obviously not from around here. Her coat is open at the front, and her wet clothes are citified and preppy, with a twist. She studies my look for a few seconds, and her wariness drifts. She notices my height, my build, my face. I’m rough-looking but there’s something trustworthy about my eyes. I’ve been told this more than once and maybe she’s tuning into that same vibe. “This is supposed to be my Airbnb. But they’re not answering and the door is locked. Do you happen to know of any hotels nearby?”
I think about recommending one of the many hotels within easy walking distance.
I’ve sworn off women, I remind myself. I’m taking a much-needed break. But I’m not quite ready to disengage from her layered, bright-eyed glow. The glittery emerald eyes that are so green they’re surreal-looking, like she’s half sea nymph or she just rode in from Atlantis on her unicorn. Her skin is sun-kissed and healthy-looking, like she’s been hanging out on a Hawaiian beach all day instead of here in the cold, wintery rain. “I’m heading to a bar right around this corner for a drink,” I hear myself saying. “We could get you out of the rain and you could call somewhere to see what’s available.”
“I guess I won’t be leaving a glowing review for this host.” A hint of humor touches her mouth. Even standing here in the pouring rain, stranded, alone, with a towering stranger she just met on the street, something about this situation entertains her. This detail does something to slay me, I have no idea why.
I take off my coat and—carefully, so I don’t scare her—wrap it around her shoulders. “You’re getting wet.”
We might as well be standing in a shower, the rain is coming down that hard. She smiles at the ridiculousness of the deluge of the rainstorm and that sweet quirk of her mouth makes my decision. There’s no way I’m not taking her with me tonight. “And now you’re getting wet.”
Don’t overthink this. You’re coming out of a tunnel. You’re not lovestruck, she’s just the first pretty girl you’ve come across on the rebound.
I keep it light. “It’ll be dry in the bar. How about that drink?” I offer my arm for her to hold onto. “You ready, then? It’s not far.”
She takes my arm lightly, glancing up at me with those crazy-ass eyes that are charmed with bright light and warm depth, and green as all hell.
“I’m Kade.”
“Stella.”
Stella.
Lost little rain-soaked glamour girl.
I don’t bother analyzing the spin of my thoughts. I’m too mesmerized to worry about it.
You’ve somehow just proven me wrong.
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