Free Offensive Behavior (Sidelined #1) by Ainslie Paton Page A

he’d
already signed on as a complication.
    Only a
year ago she’d specialized in complicated, the messier the better. She wasn’t
doing that anymore.
    She
turned more fully to face him. “This is a thing.”
    He
frowned but turned toward her, putting his back against the door.
    “Between
you and me. We’re having a thing.”
    “I’m
not following.”
    “You
have a thing for me.”
    He
grunted. “There’s no disputing that.”
    “Why
me?”
    “We’d
need all day.”
    “Give
me the summary.”
    “I’m in
awe of what you can do with your body.”
    “Ah-huh.”
    “I’m
turned on by the things you say.”
    She
made a noise of disbelief. “I mostly argue with you. I yelled at you.”
    “You don’t
get rationales in the summary version.”
    “So you’re
like most guys, you want to get with an exotic dancer. It’s a sexual conquest
thing.”
    “Ah.” Now
he broke eye contact. He turned his head away completely to look out the
window.
    “It’s
okay.” She almost laughed, but that would be cruel. Goddam it . “I have a
thing for you too.”
    He
turned his head around, his expression a little fierce, and hit her with her
own question. “Why?”
    “Does
it matter?” He wanted. It’d been a dry spell. She was offering. It could be
good. It was a one-time thing.
    His
mouth flattened. Not what he was expecting. “I’m the drunk who ogled you on
stage for a month and never had the guts to step up and tip you, who made you
feel like you’d been attacked twice in that alley, and then let you see him at
his worst physically. I think I barfed on you. That cannot be attractive.” He
stopped her responding with a raised hand. “I’m unemployed. I have an income, but
I don’t have a job and I have no idea when I will have one again. I think it
matters.”
    “It was
close, might have splattered my shoes.”
    “Shit.”
He palmed his face, his head dropping forward so she saw the curve of his neck
and imagined what it might feel like to grip him there, hold on while she
treated him to a lap dance.
    “You
didn’t tip anyone else either, except Vi.”
    He
straightened up and hit her with his laser lock eyes. “I am out of my depth
with you.”
    “I can
see that and I like it. I like the idea you’re obsessed with me.”
    He
groaned. “That cannot be healthy.”
    “Probably
not.” She eased closer and his nostrils flared. “But then I’m a pole dancer who
hasn’t committed and you’re a bum without prospects.”
    He
laughed and lifted one arm so it draped across the seat back, almost like he
was making a space for her to fit into. “In your experience, what happens when
two people have a thing?”
    She
moved into the space and his breath stalled. She ran a finger down the middle
of his chest to his belt, over the crispy cotton of his shirt, but kept her
eyes on his. “They fuck like rabbits.”
    Reid
made a choking sound. “I don’t even know your name.”
    She
held out her hand like Lizabeth had first done. “I’m Zarley.”
    He took
it and didn’t let go. “Hello Zarley, pleased to meet you. I’m your number one
fan.”
    “But
you’re going to drop me home and then we’re never going to see each other
again, because you’re a man of your word and all you wanted was a meal with me,
right?”
    He
scrunched his eyes closed. “I’m an idiot.” Then he locked on again.
    “You
are an idiot. We have a thing. You should’ve at least tried to kiss me.”
    “You wouldn’t
let me buy you a meal alone. You might hurt me if I tried to kiss you.”
    “You’d
have to take that risk.”
    “Why
didn’t you tell them you rescued me?
    “There
are a lot of things I don’t tell them.”
    He
still had her hand, his thumb rolled across her knuckles. He called, “Park us
somewhere quiet. I’ll take it from here.”
    The car
cruised to a stop, so early Sunday morning the city was a ghost town. The
driver got out with a nod to Reid before he walked off.
    Zarley
put her hand on Reid’s thigh.