Ex-Daredevil by Zoe Lee

Chapter 2

Gavin

Eliott was the most uptight, scathing person I’d met in forever. His lean body was rigid beneath linen pants and a black tee shirt, body angled away from me as he drove. His lips were pursed in distaste when he wasn’t slinging barbs in a prissy tone, eyebrow crooked.

And every time his opaque green eyes met mine, I wanted to climb him like a tree.

I knew how to size people up quickly and accurately, and Eliott was interesting, despite his plain outfit, clean-cut good looks that cried out to get disheveled, and his air of disapproval. Every challenge I’d flung at him, he’d caught it and flung it back just as easily. Our wordplay was more thrilling than the skydiving had been, and it had me buzzing. Actually it made his outward, surface appearance of being uninteresting more interesting.

When he parked in front of the diner, I knew I didn’t want him to just drive off.

I unbuckled and then tried to look as innocent as possible. “I know you paid for the lemonade, but I don’t have any money on me and I’m really hungry.” My hand rubbed my empty stomach. “If you come in and wait, I can pay you back when my cousin gets here.”

His pretty eyes narrowed, but he said, “I could eat.”

He got out of the car and strolled towards the diner’s door without waiting for me. Pumping my fist, I jumped out and raced to beat him to the door so that I could open it for him. Bells jingled and then we both sighed when the air conditioning buffeted against us.

The diner was classic, all red vinyl booths, retro posters of ice cream sundaes and pin-up girls drinking Coke from glass bottles, and a black-and-white checkered tile floor. There had to be thousands of diners in America just like it, nostalgic and glossing over the problems of the era. But it felt sincere in its desire to be comfortable and welcoming.

“Sit anywhere,” a woman’s friendly voice rang out from the open kitchen.

Eliott took the initiative and went to a booth a little bit away from the other patrons, where we could see the activity in the open kitchen if we wanted, and slid in. He crossed his legs and hitched up the fabric around his top thigh, as if he were wearing a suit.

Heat sizzling low in my belly, I tested the waters by stretching, rising up onto the toes of my sneakers with a groan. When my body relaxed, I found Eliott’s gaze fixed hotly to where my tiny nipples were little points against my thin tee shirt. My heart rate picked up while I sat down across from him, anticipating how he would start to flirt with me.

But instead he frowned in pure disappointment and fired off like he’d been holding it in, “Do you know how close you came to breaking probably every bone in your body today?”

“I would’ve fixed your lame car if I’d damaged it,” I told him, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not funny.”.

Ignoring that, I scanned the menu written on chalkboards hanging over the register.

A teenaged server arrived with ice water and silverware, setting it all down as she chirped her introductions and the special, then asked, “What can I get you to drink?”

“We’re fine with water, thank you,” Eliott said.

“And are you ready to order yet?”

Turning to Eliott, I asked, “Have you been here before? Got any recommendations?”

“I have been here before with my sister and her family. I like the grilled pepper burger,” he answered, almost defensive as if he had taken my question as some sort of a test.

Feeling like he needed it, I grinned at him before I told the server, “Okay, then I’ll have the grilled pepper burger with extra cheese and no lettuce, thanks.”

“And for you, sir?”

Eliott ordered a sandwich with a salad, then took several long sips of his water, his neck corded from the effort. I realized I’d only had a few sips of the lemonade, which must be boiling in his cup holders now, so I took a long drink of my own water.

“I’ll get your order in right away,” the server promised.

“Thank you,” Eliott said.

When he didn’t say anything, even after the server was long gone, it made a weird nervous energy nip at me. I picked up my knife and flipped it through my fingers like a magician with a gold coin, trying to get rid of it. But then I thought, He could’ve just told me to wait for my cousin to get food and then left me. If he’d agreed, then he should at least talk to me while we were here. If he wasn’t going to talk, then I could definitely get things going.

But of course I couldn’t just be nice and easy, so I commented with a smirk, “My cousin is going to laugh his ass off at me for messing up the jump and the landing so badly.”

“I won’t forget how terrifying it was to watch you hurtle towards my car anytime soon,” he said in a hard tone, his frown back. “What you did was incredibly risky.”

Something about that made me pause. I had meant to get a rise out of him, because the bantering was sexy and I wanted to keep it up while I had the chance. But it had been a long time since anyone fussed over me. My family knew I wasn’t an idiot with a death wish, and my friends and coworkers were usually skydiving with me. So something warm and fuzzy stroked along my nerves and made them purr at the idea that he was worried about me.

But I crossed my arms and gave him a serious look. “You don’t need to lecture me. I’m fine because I took classes and this was my thirteenth solo jump. I’ve never come that close to being hurt before doing any so-called ‘dangerous’ activities.” When he sighed like I was just making up excuses, I pressed, “All sports are risky and can cause serious accidents.”

Finally his eyes came back to mine and the frown eased up. “My friends would laugh their asses off too in this situation—once they knew I was safe in one piece.” It wasn’t quite an apology, but I didn’t expect or need one. “Not that I’d ever do something that idiotic.”

The precise way he pronounced idiotic did something to me, setting off flashes of images of how much fun we could have, rolling around for dominance. It didn’t bother the heat brewing in me that he seemed like the kind of man who preferred to get to know a partner over time and then make a level-headed decision to progress their relationship by having sex. Because right now, there was curiosity and attraction sharp on his face.

This was a moment in time, perfect and full of magnetism, and I was going to use it to my advantage to try to make my fantasies come true, for an afternoon anyway.

So I laughed, because I had a fun, sexy laugh, and asked breathlessly, inciting him, “How do you know you’re alive—or smart—if you never do anything dumb?”

He gave me a stern look. “Are you always so blunt and unapologetic?”

There was admiration buried somewhere under the sternness, so I fired back, hoping the banter was doing it for him too, “Yeah. No point in lying or avoiding shit, especially with strangers I’ll never see again. There’s no reason to apologize for honesty either.”

“Okay,” he murmured. “I have an unexpectedly similar philosophy that trying to lie or obfuscate is rarely worth it, but for very different reasons, I’m sure. So I can respect that.”

“Here you are,” our server said, coming up and laying out our dishes.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Thanks,” I echoed sincerely, picking up my burger and sinking my teeth in to take an enormous bite. “Mm, that’s delicious,” I mumbled once I’d devoured it.

Eliott swallowed hard and jerked his eyes to his plate, concentrating on eating. He was slow and precise, like I guessed he always was. The truth was, it was oddly alluring.

“Does your cousin live around here, or did you come just to skydive?” he asked.

The question was stiff, like he was trying to drag me kicking and screaming back to really neutral topics. But there was strain under it, too, something fierce flaming in his eyes.

I looked back at him like he was the dessert course, my body coiling in sexy tension, preparing to strike if he gave me any indication he was up for it. To encourage him, I shoved my plate aside, the paper placemat dragging and moving his water too, and leaned in.

I smirked when he involuntarily leaned forward too, our eyes locked.

“Do you know why else I skydive?” I whispered, even though no one was nearby.

He definitely knew because he tried to stop me by saying flatly, “I don’t care.”

“The thrill is sexy,” I purred as if I hadn’t heard him, because I knew as well as he did that he obviously did care. “It makes me feel sexy—it makes me want sex.”