She sighed. “No, I haven’t. It’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Then I guess we’d better stay friends.”
She smiled. “You realize that means no more kissing.”
He snorted. “You’re not going to let me forget about that, are you?”
“That’s what friends do.” She lifted one shoulder. “That and the fact that it’s going to be a hard kiss to forget. It’s been a while.”
His expression turned wry. “For me too.” He lifted the tumbler toward her. “To being friends.”
She clinked hers against it. “To being friends.”
But the truth was, if the kissing happened again, she wasn’t going to complain. In fact, she might if it didn’t.
Using a level of willpower Alex hadn’t known he possessed, he somehow made it through the rest of the evening without kissing Roxy again. He stood at his door, watching her walk back to her house, her shoes dangling from one hand and her sundress clinging to the dampest parts of her.
If he’d had that same amount of willpower the first time, the kiss never would have happened, but he hadn’t. And he was damn glad about it.
Truth was, he’d been powerless against the sight of her. She’d been there in his hot tub, steam curling up around her like she was some mystical goddess, her skin glistening with water, her eyes big and deep and impossible to look away from, her little black bikini hugging curves that could make a grown man weep.
His shifter brain had been focused on one thing and one thing only. Claiming the female in front of him. It was a base, animalistic urge. One he’d barely fought back enough to ask her permission before he’d kissed her. Those urges weren’t something he was necessarily proud of, but he was getting used to fighting them when he was around her. And he had no regrets that he’d kissed her.
Even if they were just friends until the day they died, he’d savor that moment. It had felt, for the briefest span of time, that they were meant to be.
He knew that was impossible. She was human, of course. But that feeling had created a spark in him that he would have to work very hard to keep from exploding into a full-blown bonfire. Because he wanted to kiss her again.
He wouldn’t. But he wanted to.
As she disappeared into the dark, he closed his door, grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter and walked to his bedroom. He stared at himself in his bathroom mirror, wondering what he looked like to her. She seemed to think he was attractive. He tried to take care of himself. Sure, his shifter genes made that easier, but he liked to think he put more effort into it than the average Joe.
After all, he was a cop, and that meant being stronger and faster than the bad guys. He sighed and rolled his shoulders and tried to stop himself from caring what Roxy thought.
What did it matter? She wasn’t meant for him. And even if she were a supernatural, she’d been pretty clear about wanting time to herself. Who could blame her after the nightmare of her ex? The thought of anyone, especially a man who was supposed to love her, treating her that way made Alex’s hands curl into fists.
A guy like that needed to learn a few hard lessons about how women ought to be cared for. Alex heard a snarl and realized it had come from him. He’d shifted into his half form without intending to.
He started to shake it off, then thought differently. It was late and plenty dark. Diego wouldn’t be home until his shift was over. There was no reason not to go for a run.
Besides, it might be the only way he could get Roxy out of his head enough to actually sleep tonight.
Morning came sooner than Roxy would have liked, but she had too much to do to lounge around in bed. Unfortunately. Because staying under the covers and dreaming about her hot but off-limits neighbor would be a very enjoyable way to spend a day. Though not nearly as enjoyable as spending the day in bed with the actual man.
She got up and got moving, but thoughts of Alex stayed with her throughout the morning, even making her lose track of her yoga routine as she went through her sun salutations. She refocused on what move came next. The man was the most tantalizing distraction she’d run into in a long time.
Her writer’s brain couldn’t help but think that she’d moved in next door to one of her heroes come to life. Wouldn’t that be funny?
Hmm. She pushed back into downward-facing dog. There was a book idea. Paranormal romance writer moves to a new town only to discover the world she’s been writing about has become reality. She snorted. Maybe that should be her next series.
She stepped forward into a half bend. Alex would definitely make a great paranormal hero. What kind would he be, though? She didn’t really see him as a vampire. A werewolf maybe? She stretched her arms out, swooping them up to come to a standing position.
Not a werewolf. He was too…sleek for that. Sleek wasn’t the right word, exactly. He had enough of that sexy-feral thing going on to be a were, but he’d be something more slinky. More subtle. Sexier even than a werewolf. But just as dangerous.
She dropped her hands and bent to roll up her yoga mat. She hadn’t done a big-cat were in a while. Maybe she’d use Alex as the basis for a were-lion.
She nodded. That would be hot.
Then again, maybe writing what essentially would be fan fiction about her neighbor wasn’t the healthiest way to stop thinking about him.
She sighed as she tucked her yoga mat back into the closet and headed to the shower. Kissing him was definitely going to be used as inspiration, but the rest of him…the rest of him would stay tucked away in her head for her private fantasizing only.