the chair across from me and scans the room again. The silence between us isn’t awkward, but it’s swirling with something I can’t pinpoint. It’s a vibe of uncertainty. I hate it.
I glance around him and notice Alexis refilling a drink, but her attention is on Trevor.
“That must get really old,” I say.
“What?”
“Going in places and having women stare at you.”
His shoulders relax as I feel him slide back into the easiness between us. “Who is staring now?”
I sweep the room quickly. “Oh, everyone.”
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t notice. But thanks for telling me.” He straightens his shirt with a grin. “Good to know I’ve still got it.”
“Oh, please,” I say with a sigh.
He laughs. “So can I sit with you?” He leans in. “I have a thing about eating alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have to sit alone for long,” I whisper.
He rolls his eyes but pulls out the chair. His body unfolds as he sits. And despite my ribbing of him, I completely understand why the lady in the corner is practically drooling.
There’s an aura surrounding Trevor that’s undeniable. It’s also magnetic, pulling your attention toward him even if you don’t want it to. It’s a quiet confidence, an easygoing vibe like he could blend into the crowd if he weren’t so damn attractive—a quality he doesn’t carry around like a badge.
“What’s this?” He turns my book to face him.
“I got that to help me figure out how to construct a résumé.”
“There’s an art to a well-crafted résumé,” he says.
“Have I mentioned I’m unartistic?” I scrunch my face. “It’s the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever done.”
He bites his lip. “I’m not going to say a word.”
“I meant trying to sell myself.”
“I’m still not touching that.”
His laugh is free and light. The sound shoots right to my core. My entire body clenches, the unspoken innuendo impossible to ignore.
Alexis moseys up to the table. She gives me a quick once-over and then sets her sights on Trevor.
“What can I get for you two?” she asks. While the question may have sounded like it was aimed for both of us, it was clearly directed at him. “Would you like an appetizer?”
I sink back in my seat and wait for the flirting to begin. Much to my surprise, Trevor looks at me. “What do you want? Cheese sticks? Loaded fries?”
“I usually just get a pepperoni pizza,” I say. “And an ice water.”
He makes a face. “Really? After the doughnut, I thought you’d feel much stronger about this topic.”
I glare, making him chuckle again.
He sets the menu down. “Give us a large pepperoni pizza and two ice waters. And toss some loaded fries on there, too, if you can.”
“Sure.” Alexis gives him her best smile. “Anything else?”
“No. Thank you.” And as if Alexis isn’t still standing there, he turns back to me. “So want my help?”
“With . . .”
He tries to hide a grin. “Your choice. But may I recommend making you uncomfortable? I know a lot of positions I can get you in that—”
“Stop,” I say, my cheeks heating.
“Fine. With your résumé. Do you want my help?”
“I don’t know. It’s like head-butting a brick wall.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “Because I don’t know how to make it shine.”
“Easy,” he says. “Sell your best assets.”
“I don’t know what those are.”
He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s trying hard not to smile. “Want my input?”
“No,” I say, refusing to look at him.
He sits up and clears his features of the amusement from before. “The key is to tell a potential employer why they should hire you. That’s what you have to focus on—the ‘why.’”
His phone beeps. He silences it and slides it next to the napkin holder without even looking at it. I want to ask him about it, but he just looks at me in a way that tells me not to. So I don’t. Instead, I change the subject.
“How are you liking Dogwood Lane?” I ask. I don’t mean it as some deep, thought-provoking question, but he seems to take it as one.
He considers my question. I expected an easy answer—that he can’t wait to leave or that it’s just what he thought it was going to be. Instead of spitting out something like that, he rests his elbows on the table and looks at me.
His gaze is warm on my face. It lights a flame inside my chest, the warmth radiating through my veins. He looks at me like he’s interested in what I have to say, like my questions