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“I don’t live here,” he told her, the warmth leaving his eyes as he gave her an offended look, as though she’d just accused him of selling out. Which, she supposed, she had, given his previous antipathy to the place. “I’m just in town for the week helping out while my parents vacation.”
“That’s cool that they can count on you to help out. Where are you living then?”
“I’m…” His hesitation confused her.
“It’s not that complicated a question,” she said dryly. “Not like I’d asked for all the down-and-dirty details of your love life or anything.”
Although it was tempting.
Dex shot her a weird look. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it cold. Was he pissed that she’d teased him? Nah. She was just reacting to the temperature in the room, filled with obnoxious classmates.
“I’m between places right now,” he said, his words clipped.
“Like moving to a new apartment?”
“Like trying to figure out what state I want to live in. I was living in Boston doing some I.T. work, but haven’t decided exactly where I want to relocate to.”
She gave a silent oh. A lot of free time. No job tying him to a residence. Bouncing from state to state. No wonder he’d gotten all pissy over the question. Was Dex out of work?
Suddenly she felt every hour of the intervening ten years. Before, she’d have nagged and cajoled until he told her everything. Now she felt as if she was trespassing just by asking. Unsure if it was his don’t-touch attitude or her imagination, Zoe changed the subject.
“Well, it sure is my luck that you ended up in town the one week I’d be here.” She wanted to reach across the table and lay her hand over his. Ten years ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Just like nagging him for details, she’d have dived right in.
For the first time, she regretted her inability to commit to anything, even something as simple as staying in touch with an old friend. She should have kept up with Dex. Even an e-mail here and there would have bridged this gap.
Of course, ten years ago she wouldn’t have been in a serious case of lust sitting across from Dexter Drake. Irritated with how awkward she felt, Zoe forced herself to ignore her desire to run her fingers over his hand, slide them up his arm and cup his biceps to see if he was as hard as she thought. And any thoughts of sliding and cupping anything else to test for hardness were strictly off-limits.
“Lucky for both of us,” he said with a lopsided grin. The smile was like a kick in the rear for Zoe. He’d had that same grin as a kid. A kid who’d been her best friend. A kid who was a year younger than she was and hardly interested in a flaky older woman with commitment issues.
Disgusted with herself, Zoe hunched her shoulders a little as she tapped her fingers on the table. Focus. She had a reason for being here. She needed to pay attention to that and quit fantasizing about doing the guy sitting across from her.
“Dex,” called a guy as he left the restaurant. “Watch out for her riding crop.”
Zoe glared. Dex ignored him.
“So you’ve obviously caught up with everyone, huh?” she said with a sniff.
“Not so much. I’ve talked to a few of the guys. Had a couple of propositions from those crazy redheads. That’s about it.”
His grin was wicked this time, inviting her to share his amusement that two gals who’d never have given him the time of day back in high school were trying to get in his pants now.
Zoe’s answering smile was little more than a curl of her lip. Apparently lusting after Dex required a club card or something.
“But you’ve heard who’s doing what? Like what jobs the guys have and stuff?”
Dex’s smile dimmed. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? You shopping for a specific guy-job combination?”
“You could say that,” she said with a shrug. “Not for me though. I’d heard a rumor that a local celebrity is actually a part of our graduating class and wanted to talk to him.”
Dex frowned. “So why don’t you just find him and talk?”
“He uses a pseudonym.”
It was as though he froze. Zoe’s brows drew together as she watched. Dex’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t move at all. And yet, he felt glacier-cold.
“Like, what? A writer or something?”
“Sort of.” She glanced around, noting a few former classmates seated at nearby tables. She scooted her elbows on the table and leaned closer so she could whisper. “He creates video games.”
DEX STARED, HIS BRAIN racing. He took care to keep his expression blank, though. What the hell? How had she heard what his alter ego did? And more important, why did she want him?
