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“Something seems off about him.”
“What? Tell me what seems off about the nice guy who lives across the hall that you’ve spent less than five minutes around?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“No!” I hiss and lean closer. “There are no ‘buts’ here. He seems like a nice guy, so unless you can find a concrete reason otherwise, I want you to lose the attitude.”
“Jesus Christ, you like him.”
“Maybe I do.”
“Does he know who you are?”
There it is. The million-dollar question—or, in my case, the billion-dollar question. This is the reason my circle is small and my life is private. Money, fortune, wealth… All of it is kept a secret to ensure I can have a normal life.
“We talked a lot on Sunday. He knows the basic things. If you are referring to if he knows I’m Kevin Palmer’s daughter, then no, it never came up.”
“Your dad depends on me to protect you, Greer.”
“From whom? The hot guy next door? You are being ridiculous! Don’t pull that protection shit on me. Number one, I can handle myself, and number two, I expect you to trust that I know how to judge character. Can we tame the attitude until he actually gives you a reason not to trust him?” There’s a conviction in my tone that I rarely use. It’s my no-room-for-argument voice that even Enrique can’t deny. I know I’ve gotten to him when his shoulders relax and his expression grows gentle.
“Yeah, Little G, I can do that for you.”
“Thank you.” The tension in the room disappears. “Now, make yourself useful.” I open the refrigerator and load his arms with beer before grabbing a bottle of wine and glasses.
When we get back to the others, I notice Jenny and Bessie have sandwiched Lawson between them on the couch and are pointing at something on my iPad.
“What’s going on?” I spy the screen and groan at the image. “You didn’t.”
“We did. We’re proud of those trophies,” Bessie pipes up.
“And, since we can’t talk about condoms and sex, we decided to tell Lawson about the Nerd Herd,” Jenny adds.
Lawson seems thoroughly amused. “I had no idea trivia could be so entertaining. Jenny says you’re the expert on pop culture.”
“I prefer to think of it as lifestyle and entertainment.”
He stands, coming to my side and helping me with the wine glasses.
“Hope you don’t mind I’m crashing your shin-dig,” he says low enough for only me to hear.
“You’re not crashing. I invited you, but fair warning, this group can get a little inappropriate. Hence the condom conversation commencing ten seconds after you walked in the door.”
“I don’t mind. It was enjoyable.”
“Talking about condoms is enjoyable?”
“The conversation was humorous, but it was the pretty blush on your cheeks that made it enjoyable.”
Familiar heat creeps up my neck as I pour two glasses and hand them to the girls. Both are looking at me with knowing grins, which intensifies the fluttering in my stomach.
I focus back on pouring my own wine, trying to avoid all eye contact, until Lawson steps closer into my personal space. His hand brushes down my arm, leaving a trail of heat and a prickling sensation in its wake.
My mind turns to mush, and I swallow half of my glass in one gulp, hoping the alcohol will help unwind my overactive nerves.
Thankfully, Bessie speaks up, bringing all the attention to her. “I’m starved. What are we having tonight?”
Enrique says, “Chinese,” at the same time Jonas shouts, “Italian.”
