bottles of water instead.”
She stiffened as I passed a look over her face, her eyes flashing with challenge. Shrugging, I tossed her a bottle that was on the door. I didn’t care if she drank, so long as she stayed.
She inspected it for a second before throwing it back to me. “This one’s open already.”
“Oh, sorry.” I grabbed another, checking the cap for the seal before setting it down in front of her. “There you go.” I grabbed myself a beer then leaned my elbows onto the counter, which brought me just below her eye level.
She took a sip and wiped the corners of her full lips with the back of her hand. “So…” She blinked before meeting my eyes with a steely determination. “Why’d you lie to me?”
I grinned, slugging a gulp of beer. “I had a feeling it’d be fun.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “And I was right.”
“It’s fun lying to people and making them feel ridiculous?”
“Aw, it wasn’t a full on lie. More like…a practical joke.”
She snorted, turning her back to me and leaning her ass against the counter. I paused, allowing myself a moment to study that fine curve before I sidled up next to her. “I’m sorry,” I said. And I meant it. I swayed to the right, bumping her with my shoulder. “Really. I was just messing around. And if it gets too loud up here, don’t hesitate to give a call or a text—let me know to quiet down.”
Behind her thick lashes, amber eyes glittered. A breath caught in my throat. “Really?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Because I called the doorman three times, and you turned the music up, not down.”
“I can’t say I’m not glad, since it got you up here.” A smile tugged at my lips. “But I promise, from now on as long as it’s you doing the asking, I’ll always turn it down. I’m not totally unreasonable.”
She pursed her lips. “Thank you.”
I tore a napkin in half and wrote my number on it. “You can always feel free to swing by in person instead of calling, too.” I sent her a wink, and a laugh finally broke through the scowl—like a rainbow slipping through the clouds after a storm.
“Okay, Casanova.”
I don’t know why I did it, but I reached over and pinched a section of her hair, running my thumb and forefinger down the length. It was just as soft as I had imagined, and smelled like coconuts.
She raised her eyebrows, one side of her mouth curving. I met her smile and raised her a dimple.
My knuckle brushed her arm as I dropped the piece of hair, and I noticed a track of goose bumps racing toward her elbow. For a moment, I considered leaning closer and brushing my lips against hers. She had on some sort of Chap Stick, and it smelled like watermelon. I inhaled that scent deeply, burning it into my memory. But even as I drew in closer, there was a waver in those cheeks; that smile she sported so effortlessly, so beautifully, trembled and dropped a fraction of an inch. I immediately pulled back.
I wet my lips, and distracted myself with yet another sip of beer. “What were you studying?”
“Studying?”
“You mentioned to your friends earlier…”
“Oh, right.” She sighed and picked at the corner of her water bottle label. “French.”
“Ah, le Français? C’est la plus belle langue du monde.”
Surprise flickered across her delicate features, and she gave me an odd look. “You speak French?”
“Mais, oui. I spent summers in Nice growing up.”
Air pushed out of her lungs in a loud sigh. “Of course you did.”
“You have a problem with travel?”
She gave me a sarcastic smirk and batted her eyes. “I just prefer Rome…that’s all.”
“So why study before classes have even started? French giving you a little trouble?”
“No.” She answered too quickly and knew it. “Maybe a little.”
“I could help, you know.” Why exactly was I offering to help? There were easily eight women at this party that would strip off their clothes for me without an ounce of effort. They’d do things to me you normally only see online. But tonight, none of them appealed. I wanted this one. The odd girl who wore no makeup and fucking awesome thrift store T-shirts.
“No, thanks,” she finally answered. She jerked a nod to Chrissy who was now on my coffee table, dancing with her skirt around her waist and thong-wearing-ass in the air. Her tongue was out as she gyrated to the beat. “Now, she would probably