Inspire by Cora Carmack Page A

you want, we can get it.”
    She starts bouncing up and down then, the fabric of the skirt bouncing wildly with her as she dances her victory. I smile, and my eyes are drawn again to Kalli, who's smiling at Gwen, too. Then her eyes lift to mine. They dim. Her smile falters.
    And that shouldn't feel like a knife through my chest, but it does. I pull the curtain wide, and say, “You get dressed, Gwen. I'll wait for you outside.”
    Kalli steps out first, and I follow, my eyes taking in the new dress she's wearing. It's purple, black, and gray. And on the surface, it seems simple. It's loose and long, and her shape should be swallowed beneath it, but it's not. Instead, the looseness of it feels like a tease. Here and there are cut-outs that give a peek at the silk-lined interior and just a hint of skin. It feels halfway between something she'd wear on the beach and something she'd wear in the bedroom. And I enjoy the thought of her in both of those places.
    I've forgotten how to be charming. Forgotten how to entice a woman. All I know is that I have to see her again, and now that Gwen has found her dress, there's nothing keeping me here. So, instead I just say the first thing that comes to my mind. “I've been thinking about you.”
    She hesitates outside her dressing room. “You have?”
    I nod. Because if I actually voice how often I think about her, I'm likely to send her running again. I gesture behind me where Lennox is presumably moving somewhere through the shop and ask, “Is that your roommate?”
    Her brows furrow. “Roommate?”
    “The night we … uh, the last time I saw you, you said your roommate had friends over you didn't like.”
    “Oh. No. Lennox and I haven’t known each other that long. That roommate … she moved out. We weren't a good fit. She was … reckless.”
    “Well, I'm glad she's gone then.”
    She nods. “Yep. She’s definitely gone, and everything is under control now.”
    Again, I cut right to the chase. “Can I take you out sometime? Dinner?”
    She leans toward me a few inches, then seems to realize what she's doing and straightens.
    “I can't.”
    And … a knockout in one punch.
    “You can't?”
    God, I should shut up. She said no. I should take that hint and spare myself further misery, but I don't. Because there's something in her eyes, the way she tracks my movements just as obsessively as I do hers. I remember how vulnerable she'd looked that night when I'd started asking questions about what had happened to her earlier. I see that same vulnerability in her now, and I think she's hiding. I think that's why she said no, and I'm just enough of a masochist to attempt changing her mind.
    “You should,” I say. “You should go out with me.”
    “Oh, I should, should I?” Her tone sounds offended, but there's the barest tilt at the corner of her mouth that gives me hope.
    “You should. You see, I know me. And I'm a pretty fun date.”
    “I'm sure you are.”
    “I'm also a good kisser.”
    “And how do you know that?”
    I step closer, closing the distance between us, until she has to tilt her head up to meet my eyes.
    “I've been told once or twice,” I say. “Would you disagree?”
    My eyes drop to her lips, and her tongue peeks out for just half a second, wetting her bottom lip.
    “Wilder.”
    I close my eyes. It's surreal hearing her say my name again. I'd never thought it would happen.
    “Kalli,” I return.
    Our eyes meet again, and that vulnerability is back tenfold. She looks scared. Of me? And before I know what I'm doing, I've reached up and skimmed my fingers along her cheek. I want to comfort her, take away whatever it is that has her worried. For a moment, she turns into my touch. Soft, warm skin against my calloused fingertips. I keep my touch light even though I'm dying to tunnel my fingers into her hair and taste that full mouth again.
    Then she pulls away, and practically dives into the dressing room before shutting the curtain between us. I groan and