Chapter 2—

"Why is it that everywhere I go, you inevitably turn up?"

"Perhaps we're just in sync?" Danny suggested, smiling widely.

Everytime he smiled, it was near impossible to keep from doing the same. He just had this quality about him … his smile and his laughter was so genuine and real that it simply wasn't an option to not get pulled in.

"Or perhaps you're following me around," I offered. "I do believe that's called stalking. In the eyes of the law…"

"It's a small town," he interrupted. "We're bound to run into one another."

"Is this you trying to woo me?" I laughed.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

I moved over so that I was standing in front of him and brought my hand up his cheek. I then playfully slapped him and replied, "It most definitely is not working." Taking a step back, I continued, "Maybe you're not as charming as you think you are."

"You're just harder to crack," was his response. "Why don't you give me a chance? One date?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm simply not interested? I'm not … I'm not into the dating scene at the moment."

"Broken heart?"

"No, a broken heart would imply that I was in love to begin with."

"And you weren't?"

"Don't look so happy over that prospect," I muttered. "I barely know you, Danny. You following me around town and trying to convince me to give you a chance does not give me a reason to tell you anything about my life."

"If you weren't in love, then what was it?" he asked, as though he'd not heard a single word I just said.

Instead of telling him to shove it, I found myself trying to clarify my feelings. I certainly wasn't going to get into the specifics with an almost stranger, but verbalizing the basics wasn't going to do any harm.

"I wasn't in love," I told him. "My heart isn't broken … it's more like my ego took a beating."

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and adopted the stance of 'concerned friend', which made me want to snort with mirth.

"The ego can be a bigger blow than the heart, can't it?"

"No kidding," I mumbled.

Then I realized what I was doing; I was commiserating with a man I barely knew and one who had made no secret of the fact that he wanted me. This wasn't concern—this was him trying to find an angle. A way to get inside and get what he wanted.

He looked at me, as though he were waiting for me to continue. As though he was expecting me to … to … confide in him or something. I felt like ripping his eyeballs out of their sockets.

"I'm not a bad guy," he suddenly spoke.

"What are you then?"

"Very determined. I go after what I want."

"And you want me?" I asked in a much smaller and shakier voice than I would have preferred.

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Joie," he softly said. "You see, the thing with determined people is that we don't give up easily. We don't stop until we get what we want."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That sounds ominously like a threat, Danny."

"It's not a threat," he corrected me. "I'm just letting you know that I'm not giving up until you at least give me a chance."

"So, theoretically, I could agree to go out on one date with you and that would be it. You wouldn't bother me anymore?"

"No, I didn't say that. I said once chance … that doesn't mean go out on a date with me with a closed mind."

"Oh, well then I'm afraid, you'll be working on this project for many years to come then. I don't like being challenged like this. You don't back me into a corner, Danny—it's a cardinal rule with me. I'm not one of these weak-kneed young girls who would swoon at the prospect of a tall, good-looking man pursuing her. You haven't given me any reason to give you the time of day."

"But yet you keep doing that very thing."

Before I had time to react, I suddenly found him at my side, once again invading my personal space. I'd noticed that Danny was quite found of that technique. He'd invade my personal space but wouldn't actually touch me. I'd almost rather he touched me, to be honest. I somehow doubted that would be nearly as unnerving as the hovering, ghost-like thing he had perfected.

"Giving me the time of day, that is," he whispered into my ear.

I jumped back from him, sudden anger bubbling to the surface. "You are one smarmy jackass," I spat at him. "You just won't take 'no' for an answer. To me that suggests you're more dense than you are determined. Now, back off, or I'll be forced to do something about it."

I spared him one last glare before flouncing off and leaving him in the proverbial dust. I was seeing red over his attitude towards me. Acting as though I should be honored that he'd deemed me worthy of his attention. That sort of sense of entitlement really irked me to no end.

I was too busy nursing my hatred for the jackass to notice anyone else. Therefore, when someone grabbed my upper arm to get my attention, I almost flipped out, just assuming that it was Danny still trying to pursue me. I turned around and prepared myself to rail at him when, of course, I saw that it wasn't Danny after all.

"Mom!" I exclaimed, surprise marring my features.

"Are you all right, Joie?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," I scrambled to assure her. "I was just … lost in my thoughts."

"You were purple with rage, honey. Did something happen?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Black wavy hair and tall, slender frame. Damn him. He was quickly working his way to the top of my 'must kill' list. He sauntered into my line of vision and gave me a look. I assumed it was meant to be meaningful, but all it made me want to do was march over and slap him.

My mother followed my line of vision. Danny was leaning against a tree, looking every bit the innocent bystander. Infuriating, loathsome man.

"Who is he?" she asked me.

"An unwanted admirer," I answered. "Let's get out of here. Someplace where he can't follow us."

I stole a glance at Danny before we left the park completely. He smirked at me in response. I wanted to slap myself when I started thinking that, despite his entitlement issues, there was something undeniably attractive about the man. Perhaps it was the cockiness and the overabundance of confidence? No matter how annoying and loathsome those qualities really are, there's also an element of sexiness about it as well.

Danny had dark good looks that … well, I can admit it. The man practically exuded sex from his fingertips. It was too bad he didn't have the personality to go along with it.

"Was that man bothering you?"

"Understatement, Mom. Understatement," I replied. "But I can handle him. He's just a persistent son of a …"

I trailed off with that thought, seeing her frowning at my phrase of choice. It's funny—no matter how old you are, you still feel as though you're being a naughty child by swearing in front of your mother.

"I don't know what it is about him," I continued. "I mean, I barely know him, but there's just something about him. I can't quite pinpoint it."

The way she looked at me—with complete amusement … it kind of threw me off.

"What's so funny?" I inquired.

"You like him. Whoever he is; you like him."

"Oh, and you can discern that after two seconds? I don't like him. He's too pushy."

She gave me look that blatantly said that she didn't believe me.