Dove held out a hand to Johnson, and he took it—not because they were fleeing a fire and not because she was holding a million dollars. He took her hand to wrap his fingers around hers. His long, long fingers. Her knees went a little watery. Johnson placed a hand on her lower back to steady her. Her ass went a little watery. The trip up her stairs took longer than Ulysses on his epic journey. Johnson took the keys from her hand and opened her door.
It felt real, seeing his friend like that. It was like a gift. He wasn’t into spiritual bullshit, but damn. "Damn. That Mouse had become his friend was a gift, but a curse as well. If he’d left that whole situation alone, would Mouse — would James — have had a better life? A different outcome?
She was losing it. Needing to harden, hating that she was out of control and sloppy, she punched the leather. He needed to apologize. He needed to stop the fucking car and kiss her. She had to slap him. Eve didn’t realize how badly she’d been craving this man.