Page 32 of Blush Crush

“You’re missing out on so much,” he says quickly, cutting me off before I can get a word in. “Someone like you shouldn’t be standing off to the side like a wallflower. You’re too beautiful, too smart, too damn amazing to hide in the shadows.”

I’m not sure whether to feel flattered or defensive, because while the compliments are nice, he almost looks…angry. His skin is flushed like he’s running hot, his words sharp enough they might as well come with a puff of smoke.

“And it’s not just that,” he continues, pausing long enough for his gaze to dip from my face to the valley of my cleavage before slowly climbing back up again. “I find it hard to believe you’re not constantly beating guys away with a stick. How have you made it this far in life looking the way you do and never had an orgasm? That just doesn’t seem right. There should be a line of men volunteering for the job.”

Through the dense fog of intoxication, a tiny alarm bell rings somewhere in the back of my mind. I’ve been waiting for him to bluntly broach the subject, and now that he has, it’s even more embarrassing than I was prepared for.

I cover my face with my hands as burning humiliation floods me. “Can we pretend you never heard any of that conversation?” I mumble through my fingers.

When I peek at him through the gaps between them, his stupid smile is waiting for me.

“I wish I could, doll, but I’m afraid that’s not possible. It lives rent-free up here.” He taps the side of his head.

“You’re an asshole,” I grumble, slowly lowering my hands.

“I’m only teasing, I promise.” He smirks. “The details of your personal life are safe with me.” He makes a locking motion over his lips and tosses away the imaginary key. “Seriously.”

He settles his large hand over the top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

My attention fixates on it before sliding up to meet his gaze. All traces of humor are gone, replaced by the clear blue of his eyes—earnest and warm and safe.

I don’t need promises of secrecy or leverage to know he won’t be spreading gossip about my inexperience around town.

I just trust that he won’t.

And I’m not entirely sure why.

For a long moment we stare at each other, both of us angled inward on the bench.

Cole wears an expression I can’t decipher, and I wonder if he’s just as sleepy as I am. Heat radiates off him, comforting in a way I didn’t expect. His face is so close I can feel every soft exhale against my skin, like our breaths are falling into the same rhythm.

Maybe I will fall asleep out here after all.

He inches closer, the blue of his eyes nearly drowned out by blown pupils framed by unfairly long lashes. They brush the tops of his cheekbones when he blinks, even as he continues staring at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I whisper.

He sucks in a trembling breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, gaze flicking to my mouth. “I’ve been thinking?—”

“ARIANA!”

Layla’s voice cuts across the patio from the open door, making me jump.

“Get your ass in here!” she calls. “They’re playing my favorite song and we need to dance!”

I blink, turning toward the doorway. I can hear Layla but I can’t see her. “Oh!” I say, suddenly remembering where I am. Almost like I got lost there for a minute. “Coming!”

When I stand, the world tilts slightly to the left. I sway, letting out a small giggle as I steady myself with a hand on the bench.

Cole stands quickly beside me, one hand hovering near my elbow like he’s debating whether I need help staying upright.

“I’m good,” I assure him, still laughing softly. I brush off my jeans and look up at him, offering a bright smile. It was nice getting a little break from the bar. The company wasn’t bad either. “Thanks for chatting with me,” I say. “You’re a very good listener.”

Layla calls out my name again, this time from further inside, her voice barely sounding above the music.

Reluctantly, I leave the patio, ignoring the pull in my chest urging me to stay a little longer.

CHAPTER 9