but you blush five shades of red when sex is mentioned, and you’re smiling at Reese like she’s the admissions officer at Harvard.” He leans even closer. “What gives?”
Wow. Just wow. Part of me wants to slide off my seat and crab-walk out the door, but gorgeous and hot as hell ring in my ears, blocking out all natural instinct. I fist my hands. “You need to jam a filter between the thinking and speaking part of your brain. And just so you know, I can say the word sex.” But it falls in a whisper, and my cheeks flame.
“Damn, that’s cute.” A wide grin splits his face. “I tossed the filter a year ago. Come on, Canada, say sex again.”
Frickin’ Hot Guy.
Bruno draws us back into the game—Leigh, then him, then Callum all playing. I haven’t sipped my tequila, but the girls are buzzing, and Callum can barely focus. Sam’s downed another shot, admitting to a blow job from a stripper. If he thought I blushed before, that doesn’t rival the shade of fuchsia my face colors.
When the turn falls to Sam, he taps his thumb on the table. “Never have I ever…” His thumb stops, a mischievous glint hitting his honeyed eyes…eyes that are intent upon me. “Tripped on an airplane…” He pauses.
No. He. Will. Not. No frickin’ way. I glare at him, probably using my angry-old-lady face, willing him not to be the world’s worst human being.
“And fallen on my face,” he finishes and winks at me.
Leigh frowns, her thin black brows angled at a clean forty-five degrees. Everything about Leigh is lines and angles. Blunt bangs, straight hair, sharp cheeks, and a cut chin. She’d be right at home in a protractor case. Her eyes dart from Sam to me. “What happened on that plane, you two?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Nope. Nothing happened. Absolutely no stuff in the happening department. Just a long flight. And I might have tripped over Sam’s massive boot in the aisle.”
She narrows her pointed gaze. “Uh huh.” Her eyes keep doing that darting thing. “Drink up then, Nina.”
With a huff, I sling the shot back, fire burning the length of my throat, and a five-minute hack attack follows. I don’t do hard alcohol. I wipe my mouth with my wrist and scowl at Sam. “Happy?”
“Deliriously,” he says. “Making you blush should be a sport.”
That’s exactly what I do when he winks again.
Tired with the game, Bruno pours a final round of shots, and we raise our glasses. He toasts to the trip ahead: new friends, adventures, and drinking games. This time, when the burn hits my belly, I only cough once.
A lively discussion on travel plans flows around the table. Sam has the same Lonely Planet guidebook as everyone else. He gets his copy, and we lean over the book as the group discusses the best route to follow and which hostels are the coolest. Bruno, Callum, and the girls all have passes on Kiwi Experience, daily buses that travel the country from town to town. The passes allow you to hop on and off, staying with one group or hooking up with other travelers. When Reese asks if I want to join them, I practically leap from my seat.
She reaches across the table to touch Sam’s arm. “What about you? You should come, too.”
It’s amazing how easy it is for her to do that, just reach over and glide her fingers down his skin. That taut, tanned skin. What I wouldn’t give to not overthink everything until I’m a quaking mess of nerves. Sam’s eyes slide up Reese’s arm, lingering on her full breasts. His nostrils flare, and my belly falls the way it does on Christmas morning when I unwrap yet another Grateful Dead T-shirt, tie-dyed and dizzying.
I shouldn’t care. It’s not like I’d go after him and risk the embarrassment that would surely follow. Overthinking queen. And he’d never be interested anyway. Not after that plane ride.
I’m still frowning when Sam slides his arm back, Reese’s fingers slipping onto the table. He pushes the curls off his forehead. “I bought a car off a guy, organized it before I left. The thing’s an old beater but should get me through my trip. I’ll sell it when I leave.” He looks at me, pauses, then turns to the group. “Maybe I’ll head north. To Pahia?” When Bruno nods, Sam bends toward me and lowers his voice. “You’re buying a pass, right? You’re going north?”