I stare at my phone, pondering what to do. I don’t want another player in my life, but I hardly slept a wink last night because I kept daydreaming about his captivating blue eyes and ruggedly handsome features.
Me:As friends?
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:If that's what it will take for you to go out with me, then yes, friends!
I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.
Me:Okay.
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:What’s your address?
My eyes scan my ridiculously oversized room. I don’t usually invite strangers to my home. It isn’t that I’m a snob; I just hate the thought of being treated differently if they assume I'm rich.
I'm not rich; my parents are.
Me:Can I meet you in town?
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:Alright. Where?
I rack my brain, struggling to think of somewhere that would be considered a “friendly” location. I’m stumped.
Me:I’ll let you pick . . .
His reply makes my stomach swirl with unease.
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:Bronte’s Peak.
Me:So much for us being friends. . .
This reply isn’t as fast as his former ones.
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:Oh, so you have been there before? It’s daylight. Your virtue can’t be tarnished in the middle of the day.
I giggle loudly. Every teenager knows Bronte’s Peak. . . unless they’ve been living under a gigantic rock.
Me:Alright, I’ll meet you there, but I’m parking in front of the diner.
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:Ha, alright. I’ll meet you at the diner in an hour?
My eyes rocket to the clock on my bedside table.I should be able to get ready and to Ravenshoe in an hour—barely!
Me:Okay, see you in an hour.
Blue-Eyed-Hottie:I look forward to it.
* * *
I spend the next thirty minutes getting ready before rushing downstairs. “Bye, Dad, I’ll be back this afternoon!” I push out while sprinting to the blue BMW my dad gave me on my eighteenth birthday two months ago.
I arrive at the café ten minutes later than we arranged. As my car glides down the dusty parking lot, I spot the mysterious blond. He’s leaning against the front window of the café with his knee bent up. His dark blue jeans, tight shirt, and fitted jacket reveal he has a nice runner's build. He’s not overly bulky with muscles, but he’s not skinny either. He has a perfect body that makes my pulse race.
When he notices me pulling into a parking spot a few places up from him, he smiles before pushing off the wall. He’s confident in his own skin, even a little bit cocky as he struts to my car.
I pop open my car door. “Sorry I’m late.”
Because he’s wearing aviator sunglasses, I can’t see his captivating blue eyes.Dammit!
“That’s okay, I only just got here myself.”
