She started gathering up the pencils and put them back in the box, a cue that they were finished. Disappointed, he straightened the sheaf of extra paper and handed it to her. “Thanks for the lesson,” he said.
Turning to face him, she smiled. “You’re welcome.”
He wasn’t ready for their time together to end, but she seemed to be. He couldn’t leave without being sure of one thing, though. “Do you still think I’m an axe murderer?”
“You heard me say that in the bathroom, didn’t you?” She stood and picked up the box.
“Yep.” He scooped up the paper. “Although I have no idea why you’d think that. We hadn’t even officially met yet.”
“That’s so embarrassing.” She tucked her chin against her chest and looked down. “I was just trying to...”
He got out of his seat. “Trying to what?”
“Calm myself down.” She lifted her gaze.
“Did I say something to upset you?” He couldn’t remember, she’d left so quickly after Maude had mentioned Britt’s Wall of Art. “If I did, I’m sorry.”
“No, you were fine.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault you’re so good-looking.” She scurried past him and rushed to the art closet.
He stilled. Well, he hadn’t expected her to saythat. He smiled and grabbed the paper off the table. When he poked his head into the closet, she was straightening up an already neat shelf of boxes of colored pencils. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Britt looked over her shoulder, a little smirk on her cute face. “Don’t act like no one’s ever said that to you before.”
They had, all his life. And he’d skated on those looks too. Coupled with a charming smile, he was able to manipulate situations and people to his advantage.
And where did that get him in the long run? A criminal record, a less-than-stellar education, and zero idea what he wanted to do with his life.
She faced him, her smirk replaced with concern.
Only then did he realize he was frowning. He shrugged it off. “That’s me. Mr. Hot Stuff.” He turned on a grin that made girls, and more than a few teachers, swoon.
But she wasn’t swooning. Far from it.
***
Britt didn’t say a word as she saw Hunter’s smile slip from his face. When he first flashed that Hollywood-worthy grin, her stomach did a backflip. But she instantly noticed it wasn’t real. He didn’t believe he was hot stuff. Not for a minute. She’d spent a lot of her life avoiding looking people in the eye until she was comfortable with them, and she was no expert on reading facial expressions or emotions. But the self-doubt she saw in Hunter’s eyes as he tried to play off her impulsive comment about his looks was easy to see. It was only there for a second, but it was real.
And it confused her.
His grin reappeared, less bright this time. “Since we’re done with our lesson, you want to go grab some coffee? A bite to eat?”
She grabbed her shirt hem again, but at least she wasn’t compelled to stare at her sneakers. “I... I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh.” Disappointment crossed his features. “I guess I thought I’d convinced you I was harmless.”
He had. Once she forgot her anxiety, their impromptu lesson had been fun. And she’d been truthful about his picture being good. His color choice, symmetry, and shading showed sparks of innate talent. But drawing and coloring seashells was way different from sitting in a restaurant over a meal.
“Sorry.” He continued, stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t mean to be pushy.”
She pressed her lips together. “You’re not pushy. You’re really... nice.”
A glimmer of hope lit up his eyes, only to fade. “Just not nice enough to go out with.”
Did he mean a date? Her stomach fluttered, only to calm when she reminded herself that a meal didn’t equal a date. It was ridiculous for her to even think a guy as handsome and nice as Hunter would ever think of her in romantic terms. “It’s not you, it’s—”
“Me. Got it.” His expression shuttered. “Thanks for your time. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again.” He turned to leave.
Although she was sure his ego was bruised—he’d probably never been turned down before—she couldn’t let him leave thinking he was the reason she said no. She went to him and touched his arm. More accurately, his bicep. And what a bicep it was.
