“Definitely not the gay best friend,” he said quickly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“I already have a best friend, and she’s a she, so that part isn’t being cast for this picture.”
“But there are other roles still open? Like, could I be an anti-hero?” he suggested playfully.
This man was trouble. Too much trouble for my secret little predilection–casting the movies that played out in my head. Naturally, I had to keep going. “Possibly.”
“Or what about an accomplice?”
“That’s another role for sure. So is nemesis.”
“I could be a good nemesis. Or maybe even reformed bad boy?”
I suppressed a smile. He looked like a reformed bad boy. He talked like a good guy. He could be a bad-boy-makes-good. Everyone loved that role. “It’s really up to the writers. Which role you’ll play,” I said.
“What do the writers think?”
I didn’t answer right away. I narrowed my eyes, and sized him up and down. Which fit the conversation, and also afforded me the extra bonus of checking him out close up, and cataloging his features. Captivating eyes like thunderclouds. Chiseled cheekbones with a hint of stubble. Fantastic dark hair. Gorgeous smile. Toned, tall and strong body. Verdict? Too good to be true. He had to be a mirage. A figment of my imagination. “The writers haven’t decided yet.”
“Is that a yes to pizza? Because pizza is like sunshine. You can’t not like it.”
“Pizza as in a pizza date?” I asked, as I furrowed my brows, deliberately wanting to keep him on his toes.
He smiled again. He was unperturbable. “Yes. Like a pizza date.”
I stroked my chin, as if considering his request.
I did want a date. Very much so. I knew where it would lead though. To trouble. To distractions. To a supreme lack of focus on my goals.
But a kiss? A kiss was just a kiss. I could say yes to a kiss. He hadn’t asked for one, but I had a hunch I could take one. Besides, what were the chances I’d see him again? I wasn’t going to run into him at school. If I hadn’t so far, then it wasn’t going to happen now. I’d already proven I was faster on a stakeout than he was, so I’d smoke him as the competition.
He was the ice cream. I was the eater. I didn’t need the whole cone. I could take a lick. One tasty decadent lick, and then walk away.
Piece of cake.
I leaned in, brushed my lips against his, and took him by surprise. He was startled momentarily, and didn’t respond for about a fraction of a second. Then, he kissed back. It was a tentative kiss at first, his lips soft as he slanted his mouth against mine. A starter kiss on the boardwalk while the sun fell in the sky, its lingering rays warming me. He gently placed a hand on my cheek, exploring my mouth more, running the tip of his tongue across my lips, then deepening the kiss in a way that made me very nearly forget where I was. I shuddered and tingles raced from my stomach to the tips of my fingers, lighting up my insides. The kiss radiated throughout me, dizzying and delicious and a promise of so much more. It was the kind of kiss that took over your brain. That made you believe in possibilities, in perfect chemistry.
This kiss was the sun warming me, it was cool ocean waves lapping at the shore, it was the song you wanted to blast in the car.
As his tongue slid over mine, my heart beat faster, and I gave in to the moment, relinquishing all my fine-tuned control. My mind was hazy, and I kissed him harder, craving more. Because he tasted so freaking good. No, he tasted fantastic. Like chocolate, and a hot, sexy guy all at once. A hot guy who knew how to kiss a girl. Who kissed both tender and insistent, his touch hinting at all the ways he could do other things to me, and wanted to. He looped his hand around my neck, threading his fingers into my hair, tugging me closer. He’d taken the reins on the kiss, exploring my lips, brushing his fingertips along my cheek, dropping his other hand to my waist, our bodies sliding snugly into place. There was something that felt far too right about the way we aligned, his strong, firm chest against mine, his hips near enough to me that I could tell precisely how much he liked kissing me.
A lot.
And as much as I liked kissing him. I ran my hands in his hair, so damn soft and thick, the kind I just wanted to hold onto. All night long.
Come to think of all–all day too. Yeah, I could skip a class or two for more of this.
That was the problem. The last time I’d had a kiss that made me melt, I nearly failed organic chemistry. And that had sent me spinning.
After a few minutes of fantastic kissing on the beach, I had to put a stop to it.
I broke the kiss.
“That would be a maybe to a date,” I said, then I smoothed my hands over my shirt and walked away.
Chapter Five
William
The black and white ball sailed over the net. I watched and waited for it to hit paydirt or be slammed back into my face. When it pummeled the sand on the other side, I pumped a fist and my friend John clapped me on the back.
“World’s meanest serve,” he said.
“You know it,” I said as we returned to the back of the line and waited for the other guys to have their shot. It was two against two, and we were playing some of the guys I’d run into with Jess in the late afternoon. The sun rested on the edge of the ocean now; it would drop down below the horizon any minute, and leave behind peach-pink brushstrokes of color against the blue sky.
“I got a number today,” I added.
“For what? Pizza delivery? I got that number too. It’s called Red Boy’s and they make the best pie in Venice Beach.”