Trevor Stone, the smooth and sexy drummer of an alternative rock band, has his eyes set on the one woman he can’t have.
A silent stare down took place between the two of us.
“Excuse me.” I huffed in frustration and brushed past him. “Good night, Trevor.”
His hand prevented me from taking another step forward. I snapped around to face him, annoyed he wanted to talk now. I had nothing to say to him, the experience I had witnessed several hours prior still too fresh in my mind to have a rational conversation with the man just yet.
He stood frozen, shifting uncomfortably, remaining tongue-tied.
“What is it, Trevor? I’m tired and want to go back to sleep.” I hated to sound so cold, but my heart hurt even though it had no right to.
He went to speak, but stopped himself.
She plopped down next to me in one of the airport chairs and peeled away the wax paper around the muffin. She picked off a small piece and held it out to me. “Want a bite?”
Yes, I do. But not of the muffin you’re holding in front of my mouth.
I took a deep breath to get my bearings. I leaned forward and took it from her. My lips made contact with the soft skin of her fingers.
Damn. Whoever thought eating a muffin and having a cup of tea wasn’t a turn-on had never been in my shoes. This shit was hot. I wasn’t referring to her tea either.