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the bar.“And I take it you’re the single man in this particular instance?”
“I am,”says the new guy with all due seriousness. “Any ideas who the lucky lady will be?”
“You.”
“Huh.” I frown, feeling mostly bemused. My Jane Austen T—shirt aside, this seems a little excessive.“Has this ever worked for you as a pickup line?”
“Never tried it before. How am I doing?”
“Well, there’s one main problem.”
“Just one?”
“Not to come across as a gold digger or anything, but since you raised the subject, you get that I’m going to need proof of this supposed fortune, right?” I ask. “What with you currently working as a busboy and all.”
“Harsh, but I can see where you’re coming from. What evi— dence do you need?”
At the other end of the bar, the manager pours a drink while not so subtly watching us out of the corner of his eye. Same goes for the other waitress on duty. Perhaps they dared him to talk to me. Bet him whatever amount of dollars to see if he can get me to agree to a date before standing me up and making me look the fool. Nothing surprises me here. There are reasons staff
2 KYLIE SCOTT
turnover is so high. For starters, Rob, the manager and owner of the dive bar, is an asshole who enjoys being unreasonable and inflicting his shitty sense of humor on others. While Kari, his new girlfriend and my fellow waitress, is somewhat of a raging bitch.
Not that the new dude isn’t cute. Don’t get me wrong; his attentions aren’t entirely unwelcome. Truth be told, I’ve been oh— so—subtly checking him out ever since my shift started. He’s in his mid to late twenties, at a guess. And I’ve been observing how good his rear looks encased in faded denim as he bends over ta— bles to wipe them down. I’ve noticed the cool—looking tattoo only half—visible beneath the sleeve of his T—shirt. Then there’s the way his thick longish dark hair has a tendency to artfully fall over his forehead as if he were some cinematic hero.
As for his face, let’s just say he has a nice one.
So given that he’s about a ten physically, and I’m a high six at most, you can understand my suspicions. But we haven’t hit the evening rush yet and time feels like it’s crawling, so the new bus— boy is pretty much the highlight of my shift. And a little harmless flirting can be fun. Especially when the dude knows Austen and the work environment is as dire as this one.
“Let me think.”I give my long blond braid a tug.“Asking to see bank statements seems crass. Also, they could be falsified.”
“True.”
“But bringing me a suitcase full of cash seems…excessive.” “Probably be really heavy too.”
“Hmm.”
He sighs.“Tell you what, why don’t I just go ahead and get you a ring?”
“You mean an engagement ring to celebrate our impending nuptials?”
“Right.”He crosses his arms. And I did not get distracted by the movement of his muscles beneath his tanned golden skin.
THE RICH BOY 3
Nope. Like the well—bred young lady I am, I keep my gaze glued to his pretty green eyes. “What if I prove my good fortune and excessive wealth by buying you the perfect ring?”
“All right, then. Just make sure you get something big and flashy without being ostentatious or over the top. No one likes that.”
“Understood.”
“Great. Materialistic, but acceptable. What was your name again, good sir?”
“Beck.”He holds out his hand and we shake. His hand is big and his grip firm, but not overly so. “Can I just call you‘wife’? That’s easy to remember.”
“Ha. I’m—”
“Alice. I know.”
“Nice to meet you, Beck.” I retrieve my hand and pull my pad and pen out of my apron.“Now, as great as this has been, I have customers to serve.”
“One last question. Would you like to go out sometime? With me?”
I pause.
“I hear they have great coffee and pie at the bakery.”
“Yes, they do. But I don’t think we should move too fast. We’ve only just settled the marriage question. Already moving on to coffee seems like a big step.”
“That’s a fair point and I certainly wouldn’t want to rush things. It’s just that there are a few things I’d like to discuss re— garding our upcoming nuptials. The floral arrangements, in par— ticular. You can never start planning that too early. What font to put on the invitation. That’s a close second. You can’t just roll with Comic Sans and think it’s going to be okay. Then of course there’s your trousseau to be organized. I could help with that.” He’s amusing, I’ll give him that. But are his intentions pure? That’s the question.“What do you say, wife?”
4 KYLIE SCOTT
“I’ll think about it.”
And oh what a smile. The swoon is strong with this one.
“Good.”
The bar is located way back from the water. It also lacks the wine or craft beers list that other, cooler bars in the Santa Monica area have. Our clientele reflects this. We’ve had a busy night with the regular crowd shuffling in along with tourists in search of cheap beer, loud music, and big—screen TVs.
Regulars and those wanting service this century sit in my section. My tips are okay. I’m polite and affable, without being overly familiar. It’s a fine line. Some dickheads, however, will never understand that being a waitress doesn’t mean you’re there for their sexual gratification. Tonight, that dickhead’s name is
Phil.
“There you go, sweet—thing,” he says as he drops the twen— ty—dollar bill onto the ground.“Oops. How clumsy of me.”
This is not a new game. I keep the smile plastered on my face as I pick up the money. I crouch down, one hand holding my shirt in place to avoid gifting the asshole a shot of my bountiful cleavage
a common habit among bargirls
. But there’s nothing I can do to stop my black jeans
dark colors match my soul and it’s important to accessorize
tightening over my equally bountiful ass. Most likely, watching me do this is as close as this man ever gets to real live action. Phil is a sad sack of shit.
“Keep the change,”he says, licking his lips.
As tempting as it is to smack him upside the head, I smile and walk away.
“Don’t,”says a deep voice behind me.
Next comes Phil’s outraged spluttering. “Get your damn hands off me!”
“You don’t touch her.”Beck’s grip on the dickhead’s arm is
THE RICH BOY 5
fierce. And Phil is no match for the new guy. “Not without her permission.”
“I wasn’t gonna—”
“You were.”
“What’s the problem?”Rob appears all red in the face from hauling his ass out from behind the bar in a rush.“Beck, Jesus, let him go. Phil, buddy, you okay?”
“This idiot just assaulted me.”Phil puffs himself up, rubbing at the red marks on his arm.“Almost ripped my arm off.”
“He was going to grab her ass,”says Beck, voice tense.
“Are you serious?”Rob looks to heaven.“He was just playing around. The girl can take a joke, right?”
The girl, me, just sighs. Then I smile. A smile doesn’t seem like much of a lie in the general scheme of things. But Beck’s eyes widen in surprise. What the hell did he expect? I need this job.
“Very sorry about that, Phil,” says Rob.“It won’t happen again.”
“It better not.”The dickhead gathers his wounded pride and heads toward the door. The people around us return to drinking. It’s over.
“Pull that sort of shit again and you’re fired,” snarls Rob. “That guy is a valued customer. He’s in every other night spend— ing money and tipping well, understood?”
Beckjust nods.
And with gritted teeth, I go back to work.
“Does that sort of thing happen often?”
It’s two in the morning and the last drunk has stumbled off. Kari and Rob left at around midnight when things started slowing down. That’s when I get to tend bar for a while. Rob doesn’t like me being back there when he’s still working because, and I quote, “I take up too much space.”So yeah, only Beck and I are left to
6 KYLIE SCOTT
clean up. Music plays softly on the stereo and the street outside is mostly quiet.
“Occasionally,”I answer, wiping down the bar. “Comes with the job. Thank you for trying to save me from sexism, but I can look after myself.”
Silence.
He starts putting chairs up on the tables, getting ready to sweep and mop the floor. At least I don’t have to do it all on my own. Rob is such a cheap shit. It’s been weeks since the last bus— boy just decided to not show up.
“I’m looking for another job,”I say, not liking the silence. “Though it’s not easy with the hours they have me on here. All in all, I kind of hate the place with the fire of a thousand suns. But please don’t tell him that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”He smiles. I smile. We all smile.
The air is cleared. Good.
“So what’s your story?”I ask.
Apparently I have a thing for the lean muscles in his arms, because when he pushes the broom around it’s this close to being a sex thing. Takes me a moment to remember what I was doing, i.e. restocking the fridges and liquor shelves behind the bar. The new guy looks like good times and heartbreak. I should definitely know better.
“I suppose that as my future bride you have a right to know of my dark past,”he says, expression grim.
“That bad, huh?”
Again he flashes a smile. “Nuh, not really. Decided I didn’t like the path I was on so I got off it. Been traveling this great na— tion of ours and seeing the sights ever since.”
“You’re a wanderer, then.”
“Guess you could say that. Hope it won’t be an impediment to our future happiness? A life of love on the road has much to offer.”
THE RICH BOY 7
“I’ll keep that in mind.”I smile and straighten from packing some beers in the fridge. Think it over. Seems the likelihood of his interest in me being a bad joke encouraged by management is nonexistent after tonight’s scene. But we’re still talking around ex— actly what might be happening here.“After much consideration, I have decided that what you’re actually after is meaningless sex, as opposed to the holy state of matrimony. I don’t blame you for getting the two confused. It happens often.”
His dark brows draw together, a hand going to his heart.“You doubt my intentions? I’m wounded, Alice. Wounded.”
“Still after a wife to go with your good fortune, huh?”
“Absolutely.”He recommences sweeping the floor.“But not just any wife. No. It must be you.”
I smile and shake my head.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
“Your knowledge of Austen is impressive, I’ll give you that.”
“Why, thank you. It’s my stepmom’s favorite book. She used to make me watch the movies with her all the time. Never thought that’d actually come in handy, but here we are.”He smiles once more and my stupid knees go weak. I need to gird my loins or something against this man.“Though, to be clear, I wouldn’t turn down meaningless sex with you until such time as you’re ready to commit, of course.”
“How very kind of you.”
“Not a problem,”he says.“We could try it as a baby step to— ward working our way up toward having coffee. Take it slow, like you said.”
I bite back a smile. The guy is an outrageous flirt.“Do you normally jump straight to offering a girl your hand in marriage?”
“No. Like the lines from Austen, it’s a new thing I’m trying.”
“Any reason in particular?”I ask.
He ponders the question for a moment.“Life is short.”
8 KYLIE SCOTT
“True.”
“Is the mop and bucket in the storeroom too?” So that’s all the explanation I’m getting. Okay.“Yes, it is.”
We work in silence for a while. I’d like to say his presence doesn’t affect me, but that would be a lie. Because almost every time I sneak a look, he’s sneaking a look back. And he’s smiling. If only he were less cute or something. Because the truth is, I might be a bit doomed here. Lust at first sight in the workplace is kind of a pain in the ass. Same goes for advanced flirting leading toward pos— sible copulation. There’s a myriad of ways getting involved, even just a smidgeon, could go wrong. Though apparently he doesn’t intend to stay long and I’m doing my best to get the hell out of here. Ah. The elusive yet pervasive dream of working somewhere management isn’t complete and utter trash. These days, it’s all that keeps me going.
In the meantime, there’s the prospect of a dalliance with Beck to be considered. And considering it, I am. If for no other reason than it’ll give me an excuse to run my fingers through his beautiful hair and mess it all up. It might just be my new life goal. At least for this week. His hair and his lips and his arms. Those are my favorites, for now.
Before closing up, I touch up my eyeliner and lip gloss. It’s been a long night, but I like to look nice for myself. That Beck will also be seeing me is just a bonus.
“Question,”I say at around three a.m. as we finish locking up. “You hungry?”
“Answer. I could eat.”
“Then follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The diner is within walking distance on Wilshire Boulevard and can best be described as low—key. However, it serves coffee and a half decent burger and fries at odd hours, when I most require these things. Therefore, it has my heart. Beck doesn’t seem put off
THE RICH BOY 9
by the faint film of grease on everything and smiles at the 1950s kitsch aesthetic. Thereby passing another of my tests.
“You haven’t told me your story,”he says once we’re seated in a booth and have ordered.
“I finished my degree and realized it was basically good for nothing and there were next to no jobs available anyway. Or at least nothing that appealed. Teachers and librarians are fighting for every scrap of funding they can get while newspapers are fold— ing. The publishing industry is going through serious cutbacks. Majoring in English Lit may have been a mistake.”I shrug. Truth is, I got stuck for various reasons. But this explanation is easier to swallow.“Figured if I was going to wind up serving then I’d like to do it somewhere I can walk along the beach now and then, without getting stuck in traffic for hours.”
He nods.“Makes sense.”
“I thought so. I’ll figure out what I want to do with my life eventually.”
“No rush. Good that you can take the time and space to figure things out for yourself without anyone pressuring you.”
“Just the student loans hanging over my head,”I say.
His answering smile is brief and small.“Grow up around here?”
“Close enough; San Bernardino,”I say.“What about you?”
“No, I’m half a country away from home and intend to keep it that way. Though maybe half a country away is still too close. I hear Iceland’s nice this time of year.”
I raise my brows in question.
“Family.”He shrugs.“What can you do?”
The waitress delivers our food, filling up the table with Beck’s order of half of the breakfast menu. Without hesitation, he pro— ceeds to devour it all. If I ate that much, my ass wouldn’t fit in the seat.
“Want some?”He offers me a forkful of pancake, dripping with syrup.“It’s good.”
10 KYLIE SCOTT
“I’m fine with my burger. Thanks.”And I’m curious as heck about his family, but pressing him further wouldn’t be polite.
Dammit.
“So what are my future wife’s favorite hobbies and/or interests?”
“Hmm.”I stick a fry in my mouth and chew, thinking it over. “Reading, films, music…the usual. You?”
“Lots of things.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know…hiking, rock climbing. Stuff like that.”
“So basically I like to sit still and you’re all about being busy and athletic. We have nothing in common.”
“No. Wait. I can change,” he jokes. “Give me another chance.”
“You shouldn’t have to change.”I swirl another fry in some ketchup.“I’m sure you’re perfectly fine just as you are.”
All humor is gone from his face now, his expression blank. The look in his eyes, though, is dark and unhappy. It would seem I’ve hit a nerve. So of course, I do the worst thing possible and babble.
“I mean, what is even the point of being with someone if all you want to do is change them?”I ask.“If you and your signif— icant other were both exactly the same, where’s the interest or challenge in that? Do you just live in each other’s pockets until the day you die? You’d have to run out of things to talk about pretty fast, right?”
Nothing from Beck, but a line is now embedded between his dark brows. A moment ago, he seemed all good humor and con— fidence. Now, however, he almost seems kind of lost. Something I’m more than familiar with these days.
“Beck, are you okay?”
He blinks, coming back to life. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
THE RICH BOY 11
“Nothing; it’s fine.”My face warms and oh my God. Blushing is so fucking annoying. Be gone, foul anxiety.“I was just….”
“Imparting wisdom to me.”
“Sure. Yeah. The combined wisdom and experience of my twenty—two years plus a degree I have yet to find a use for. Please take it with all due seriousness.”
“I’ll do that.” The tension he’s feeling seems to ease. His shoulders relax; his hands gesture around him.“I like this place.”
“Me too.”
“Probably not quite right for a wedding, though.”
“Probably not,”I agree. The weird mood has lifted. I want to ask him what it was about, but I don’t know him well enough to pry. So instead, I settle for staring at him. Good Lord he’s pretty. I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll soon be saying it again. While I feel sort of bad for objectifying him, what can you do when he’s right there breathing and existing and getting all up in my face? More importantly, I like him. Not a thing that happens often. And he can quote Austen. Still, rushing in doesn’t feel right.“I bet you’ve got a girl in every town you’ve been to.”
“If you’re asking if I’ve spent all of my time wandering alone, then the answer is no,”he says.“I’ve met lots of different peo— ple, worked lots of different jobs. Spent a lot of time staring out Greyhound bus windows, too.”
“Hmm.”
“What about you? Do you make new friends and acquain— tances at the bar often?”
“No, not normally.”
He stares at me and every damn time he does it my nerves start to tingle. But it’s only chemistry, sexual attraction. Nothing to get my panties in a knot over. In all likelihood, it’s the reptile part of my brain indicating his sperm is of interest and how he might make a good protector for me and our young. There’s no actual bond between us. Not really.
12 KYLIE SCOTT
“I’ve reached a decision,”I say.
“Regarding?”
“You.”I put down the fry and wipe my hands on a napkin. “I’m not taking you home with me tonight.”
“You’re not, huh?”
“No,” I say, though my voice wavers with my lack of conviction.
The way he watches me, the look in his eye, it’s as if noth— ing has ever been half as interesting as what just came out of my mouth and he can’t wait to hear what I have to say next. A girl could get drunk on this kind of attention. But hot males and I do not have a good history. It’s your usual pathetic backstory. Heartbreak, shattered dreams, and angsty songs played on repeat for weeks on end annoying the living shit out of everyone in the vicinity.
Much safer if my pants remain fastened. At least for the time being.
“Okay,”he says.
“Assuming, of course, that all of this flirting is leading some— where and you were interested in going home with me?”
“It is and I am.”
A group of butterflies is called a flutter. And that’s exactly what’s going on in my stomach right now. “Perhaps another night, then…”
All of the smiles he flashed me before were nothing compared to the smaller, more thoughtful one he gives me now. Holy shit. My heart hammers inside my chest and my brain is both dazed and confused. I am utterly beguiled. That’s the word for it. This man is the perfect mix of funny, gorgeous, and intriguing.“No rush. After all, we have the rest of our lives together. And, when you’re ready, I’m happy to wait through however many bouts of meaningless sex before we go all the way to coffee. Whatever it takes for you to feel comfortable.”
THE RICH BOY 13
I shake my head.“You know, I honestly can’t decide if you’re crazy, comedic, or something else entirely.”
Beckjust grins.
Down at the beach, all is pretty much quiet and still. Most of the attractions on the pier shut down hours ago. I don’t usually come here in the early hours of the morning, but Beck was interested so here we are. Guess neither of us want the night to end. Which is wonderful. The sand is cool under our feet, the moon low. In a few hours, it’ll be dawn.
“I’d like to hold your hand, if that’s not too forward.”
“I think that would be okay.”I place my palm in his and he immediately laces our fingers together. His skin is warm, his hand large. It suits his size. Yet we seem to fit together just fine. Without being told, he shortens his strides so I’m not left behind or dragged along.
“I think taking it slow is the right idea, at least for the next forty—eight hours or so.”His expression is thoughtful, gaze look— ing out at the water.“We want to build a solid foundation for our marriage.”
“Right,”I drawl.“Dare I ask, have you been married before?”
“No, I haven’t. What about you?”
“Nope,”I say.
“Then our expertise is on the same level.”He gives my fin— gers a squeeze.“I have a good feeling about this, Alice. A very good feeling indeed.”
Waves lap at the shore, the sound soothing. After all the noise at the bar and then the bright lights at the diner, it’s good to be outside in the clean ocean air. To stare off into the distance and think not particularly deep thoughts. My feet hurt and my head is tired, but the company is lovely. He has the hem of his jeans rolled up, toes digging into the sand. And his bare feet are every
14 KYLIE SCOTT
bit as attractive and interesting as the rest of him. Toes have never particularly titillated me before, yet here we are.
“Never really spent much time at the beach,”he says.“More used to the mountains.”
“There’re no sharks in the mountains.”A random but rele— vant comment. Shark week made an impression on me.“So it’s probably safer.”
“Yeah.”He scratches at the dark stubble on his chin.“It does have that going for it. Though they do have Bigfoot up in the hills.”
“But does he actually attack people or is he more of a hairy introvert who just wants to be left alone?”
“The latter, I think.”
“Can’t believe you rock climb. Isn’t that hard?”
“Well, it’s not always easy.”
“You use safety harnesses and wear a helmet, right?”
He winces.“Ah, not so much.”
“You free climb?”I tear myself free of his grip and turn on him.“Beck, that’s dangerous. People die doing that.”
“But it’s cool, right?”
“Are you doing it because you think it’s cool?”
He shakes his head.“No. It’s for the challenge. Me against the mountain. See, there’s not just the physical aspect, but there’s the mental fortitude required as well. It’s an amazing experience.”
“I don’t even know why you bother flirting with me,”I say.“I think staying up past my bedtime to finish a book is a perilous and exciting adventure.”
“Climbing is a calculated risk and I am as careful as can be. Promise not to make you a widow anytime soon, if that helps.”
“Thanks. I think you’re very brave.”
He just smiles.
Meanwhile, my frown is intense. I can feel it. While this has been fun, it makes no sense whatsoever. Insecurity is a bitch, but
THE RICH BOY 15
it’s not always without cause.“You know, at first I thought you were just talking to me because Rob dared you or something.”
“You did? Why would you think that?”He frowns back at me.
I just shrug. No need to delve into my various complexes and issues right here and now. Or ever, for that matter.
“Let me state unequivocally for the record,”he says.“I’m not here to hurt your feelings or lead you on, okay?”
“Okay.”
He motions me closer with his hand.“Now you say it back to me.”
“Ah, I’m not going to hurt your feelings or lead you on.”
“Thank you,”and he says it so sincerely. Guess I’m not the only one who’s been screwed over in the past.“Now what do you think about our future prospects, wife?”
“I still think we’re complete opposites.”
“So according to your comments over dinner, we will there— fore have much to discuss for the rest of our lives.”He steps closer. Moonlight and shadows make him even more handsome. A little dangerous and a lot mysterious. The breeze tousles his hair and he stares back at me, calm as can be. He keeps his emotions well contained. I can’t read him at all. Though the comedy seems like a type of protection, a sleight of hand to hide his real feelings. I can’t talk; sarcasm and wit are my crutches of choice.
“I didn’t think you were paying attention,”I say.
“Of course I was.”He takes another step closer. Our chests are almost touching now and his gaze never leaves my face. The heat of his body is intense, the pull of him extreme. Like he’s this giant magnet I want to fall into and crash against. Stupid of me not to take him home tonight and get naked, preferably with no lights on. A real lost opportunity. How often does someone of Beck’s caliber come along? Answer: next to never.“According to the rules of taking it slow, Alice, I’m not allowed to kiss you yet. Which is damn hard when you’re looking at me that way.”
16 KYLIE SCOTT
“There are rules?”
“You don’t know them? To be exact, I’m quoting article five subsection seven.”
“That one, huh?”
“That’s right. No kissing on the first date. And definitely no head.”
A laugh stutters out of me.“Oh. What a shame.”
“It is. But we can hug it out and discreetly feel each other up over our clothing,” he says, his voice low and hypnotic.“If you like.”
“Actually, that sounds quite nice.”
“I was hoping you’d feel that way. All right, then.”He holds his arms open.“I’m ready.”
We’re so close I barely need to move to be in his embrace. My arms go around his waist and my cheek rests against his pec. Arms wrap around me, holding me tight. He smells amazing, warm man flesh with the faint hint of sweat and the lingering scent of his aftershave. Combined with the salt air, it is all things good and right in this world. I could get high off of him, no prob— lem. He holds me against him while his other hand is busy giving me a neck rub. The pads of his fingers stroking over my skin be— fore kneading the muscle with just the right amount of pressure. The man knows what he’s doing. I give this hug eleven out of ten.
Meanwhile, his face is buried in the top of my head, sniffing at my long blond hair. He’s not even being discreet.
“I probably smell of stale beer,”I say, trying to be helpful.
His chest moves slightly as he chuckles.“No. It’s something floral.”
“Hibiscus.”
“Ah. Pretty.”
It’s actually from a dry shampoo because I’m two days past needing to wash my hair. Though he doesn’t need to know this. The length of my leg hairs would also probably scare the man,
THE RICH BOY 17
but such is life. Sometimes a girl just needs to go natural. Also, I wasn’t in the mood or anticipating getting this close with any— one. At least, not tonight. Being female can be ridiculously high maintenance.
But back to the hugging.
It’s funny, his body is hard yet comfortable and the way he holds me is nothing less than swoon worthy. Like I’m treasured and protected. But also wanted. And with my breasts squished against his chest, he can no doubt feel my hard nipples reacting to his touch. Oh well. With his firm hand now working its way up and down my spine, going a little lower each time, teasing us both, there’s no innocence about this embrace. Something is also happening in his pants.
“Isn’t this nice?”he whispers.“And so chaste.”
“You know, I was just thinking that.”
His palm eases over the top of my ass cheek, fingers dig— ging into the flesh just a little, grabbing hold of me. I slide my hands under the hem of his T—shirt, needing to feel his skin. Hot, smooth, and perfect. It’s a visceral thing, the need to get closer. I rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him. Being this close gives me full body tingles. In this low light, his gaze is all dark and mys— terious. And very sexy. The man makes me so giddy I can’t think straight. Too many sensations, so much yum. It wouldn’t take much to reach up and press his mouth to mine. How tempting. I can barely even remember why I thought waiting to go further was a good idea. Caution means nothing when your blood’s run— ning hot and your hormones have been so thoroughly agitated.
Then, I ruin it all by yawning. My jaw even cracks nice and loud.“Oh God. Sorry.”
He laughs.“Think we better call it a night. Let you get some sleep.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Want me to walk you home?”
18 KYLIE SCOTT
I shake my head.“It’s fine, thanks.”
And he just stands there and looks at me for the longest mo— ment. If only I could read his mind. I don’t know why this gets to me so much, all of the attention he’s showing. But it does. My body adores the way this man watches me as if nothing else mat— ters. The complete focus in his gaze. Already I’m learning there’s nothing half—assed about Beck. A change from the last few guys I dated. Not that we’re dating. I don’t actually know what this is.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”he asks, hand resting low on my back, thumb rubbing back and forth against the cotton of my shirt.
“Right.”I smile. I can’t wait.