Read Every Little Dream (Second Chances) for Free Online Page A

and run fingers through my hair. Obviously, last night was the wrong approach. Maybe, even if he doesn’t realize it, he’s looking for a good girl. He might’ve pushed any girl aside last night. That must be it. Then armed with a coffeepot, I head toward his table.  
    Two feet away, he looks up. Surprise lightens his face and then it passes and shadows take its place. Like a storm crossed his face just at the sight of me. Hmpf. Guess he likes to be a challenge.
    I slide into the booth. “Hi.” My voice sounds breathless and nervous. I tuck my hands under my legs or I’ll do something stupid like fiddle with the napkins or try to hold his hand.
    “I’m a liar.” The words shock me. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. Wait. Who am I kidding? That’s what I’m known for. Might as well be myself. “Well, not really a liar even though it might seem it to you especially since I told you I was and then told you I wasn’t…” I look up and see confusion. I sigh. “Let me start again.”
    “Why not?” he says dryly, and glances at the door.
    “I’m not the person you met last night.”
    He laughs, but it’s not a joyful sound, more like the sarcastic response of someone tired of life. “Could’ve fooled me.”
    “No, I mean…” I stumble over my words. Why is this so hard? “I mean I am, but I’m not. I was trying to be a bad girl last night. I was trying but I failed miserably. I couldn’t even pretend to be a sex goddess without you seeing through my act.”
    He lifts an eyebrow.  
    Maybe I should’ve left out the sex goddess part and the fact that I basically said I didn’t really like him. I rush to correct my words. “I mean it wasn’t an act. I loved every moment of being with you. Not that we had sex or anything.” My face must be blinking red I’m so embarrassed. Justine was right. He’s out way out of my league. “Never mind. Just leave. I just thought you looked like you could use a good girl in your life. And I sure as hell need some excitement.”  
    “Um, could I have some more coffee?” His eyes have a tiny sparkle in them, like he’s enjoying my predicament.  
    I pour his coffee. “I’ll leave you alone now.” I slide out, wanting the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Since when have I forgotten how to talk with a guy? Since I met this one, I guess.
    “Wait,” he says.  
    I stop at the edge of the padded booth seat. “What? You want some more laughs at my expense?”  
    “No. I have a question.”  
    For the first time, something other than distrust and mocking crosses his face. He’s curious? I slide back in and place the pot on a stack of napkins. “What?”
    He pauses as if carefully choosing his words. He reminds me of a lawyer, the way his face is expressionless and he’s about to drop the bomb that wins the case. “What was last night really about?”
    “Seriously? I already told you.” I groan. “Are you trying to humiliate me even more?”
    He shakes his head. The way his black hair falls around his face draws my attention to his mouth, his jaw, then lower to the hollow at the base of his neck. My insides sizzle as my gaze lingers on his mouth again.
    “I’m not sure I believe you. Your story seems a little flimsy.”
    His words slap me out my haze of attraction. “Well, I had too much to drink. You invited me back. We made out. Then you kicked me out when you realized I was the same girl you almost ran over with your bike.”
    “That’s what it might’ve looked like.” He sips his coffee. “But there’s more to it.”  
    “What do you mean, more to it? Seems pretty clear cut to me.” I try my hardest not to let out the huff of frustration.
    “Just tell me the truth why you tracked me down, then I’ll tell you my reasons for kicking you out.” His eyes narrow and suspicion is written in the way his lips press together and the way he studies me.
    I sigh. “I already told you.” I can’t embarrass myself any more than I already have in