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“Film. What about you?”
“It was business, but I’m taking a year off to reassess. Maybe go to Australia and catch some waves.”
Ken does not strike me as the type to inhabit an office. He also must not have bills to pay.
“Living the dream, eh?”
He gives me a crooked grin and points to my half empty beer bottle. “Can I get you another?” Then his big brown eyes descend to my boobs.
Here’s someone not interested in friend-zoning me.
That’s when I spot him, a wall of testosterone and determination headed my way. He’s wearing his usual: white t-shirt, gray basketball shorts, flip-flops. It shouldn’t trigger sizzle. It really shouldn’t. And yet it does. Sizzle in my tummy, sizzle between my legs. This is really inconvenient sizzle.
He reaches the bar and I get a load of the scowl he’s wearing.
“Bailey? What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” I can’t keep the confusion out of my voice. I look around to see if maybe I missed something. Is this place closed for a private party tonight? Nope, doesn’t look like it.
“Yes. What are you doing here?” he reiterates, and awaits my answer with one hand planted on the bar, his arm serving as a security partition between me and Ken who looks more confused than ever. Though in his defense, he’s high as a kite.
“Partaking in the age-old college tradition of fun? What are you doing here?”
He squeezes his extra large body between me and Ken, boxing him out.
“Hey, dude––” Ken finds the wherewithal to say.
Reagan glances behind him. “Yeah, thanks for saving my spot.” He turns back around to face me. Only inches separate us. I have to squeeze my legs under the bar or risk having him step between them.
“But I wasn’t…” I hear Ken attempt to say. His voice fades. I assume anything more would’ve taken too much effort.
“You realize Tuesday nights are pick-up nights?” he says, skipping right over my question.
“So I’m here on a good night? Is that what you’re saying?”
He grabs one of the French fries out of the large basket I ordered. “No, don’t––”
Too late. Gagging, he immediately spits it back up into his hand and dumps the remains in a cocktail napkin. Then he guzzles the rest of my beer and glares.
“The hell?”
“I was going to tell you”––a burst of laughter escapes me––“that I poured salt on them. It was a huge portion, and I was going to eat them all, so I ate half and ruined the rest.”
Grimacing, he shakes his head. “Women.”
My amusement won’t die. Which causes Reagan to smile. Our eyes lock. He’s so close I can smell him and it’s like a spell is cast, my body going hot and soft and amenable to being tampered with. “You didn’t answer me,” I ask to hide the fact I’m getting turned on by his mere presence, my voice sounding strangely seductive even though I don’t mean it to. “What are you doing here?”
He looks down on me with a searching glance, his eyes so bright against the fresh spot of color from outdoor practice today. “I was about to head home, but I think I’ll stay now.”
“Why?” I press. This back and forth needs to stop. I know I’m not the only one feeling this magnetism between us––this attraction. Let’s call it what it really is.
“Because…” He huffs, a mix of confusion and irritation written in the v between his brows, in the way his full lips press together. I want to kiss those lips until they soften and kiss me back.
“What are you, four? Because why, Reagan?”
“Because you need someone to watch over you.”
“I’m here with the girls.” I motion to Zoe and Blake. Zoe pauses her conversation to glower at him. “I don’t need protecting. As a matter of fact I was having a nice conversation with Ken before you showed up and interrupted.”
“Rea, we’re heading home. You coming?” Cole Peterman walks up saying. He levels his dark blue eyes on me and runs them up and down my body with intent. Okay, that’s weird.
The air around Rea changes, his entire being stiffens. “I’m staying. Alice will give me a ride,” he casually throws out.
I will? This is news to me. He inches closer and the tops of his thighs press into my knees and every bit of my attention goes there, held hostage by that small spot where we touch. Jesus, this is bad.
Cole’s eyebrow hikes up. “See you later.”
We both watch Cole walk away. Then his attention returns to me and anticipation thickens the air between us. My insides somersault. “Do you think that maybe you could…umm, back up a little.”
“Why?” His face puckers as if this is the most absurd request he’s ever heard.
“Because I’m here to meet people and you’re in the way.”
“Like who, Ken?” He hooks a thumb behind him. “That dude got caught dealing weed on campus and got tossed out of school.”
