He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. We both get out, and I walk over to the other side of the car where he’s leaning against the driver’s door, waiting.
He’s dressed in dark khakis that are doing all sorts of amazing things for his ass. The fitted black Henley with the rolled-up sleeves is a nice touch too. His curly hair is a little wild, probably in need of a trim, but I love it like this. I have to fight the urge to reach up and run my hands through it, reminding myself that’s usually not something friends do.
“Wait a second,” he says, reaching for my hand.
“What’s up?” I ask, trying to come off as casual.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay before we go in there. That we’re okay.”
I attempt a smile. “Yeah, why?”
“Pres, come on. You’ve been avoiding me for days.”
“I have not,” I argue, trying to tug my hand away, but he just pulls me closer. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Okay, then let me help.”
I glare at him. “No.”
“No? Why?”
“I’m just not ready for help,” I answer defensively, trying to focus on anything but him. My mom’s roses look particularly nice this year…
“Pres.” He gazes into my eyes in a way only he can. In a way that seems to reach into my soul and tug at my heartstrings, begging me to answer back.
“Fine,” I relent with a sigh. “I have been avoiding you.”
“I know that,” he says smugly. “Why?”
“Because I realized the money problem at the bar isn’t completely Jace’s fault, okay?” I throw my hands up in frustration. “I knew we weren’t doing well, but I thought I could handle it. I pushed extra money into bands and events, expecting it all to pay off. But I risked way too much, and now with all the money and stock Jace stole…”
His jaw tightens, and I wait for it. I wait for the insults or the insinuations that I’m in over my head. But they never come. “What can I do to help?” he simply says.
I stand there stunned. “What?”
“I said I would help, and I meant it. What do you need me to do?”
It’s such a simple response, but so powerful. He doesn’t offer any unwanted opinions, doesn’t drown me in false sympathy, or try to bulldoze me and take over everything like most men do. He just offers a hand.
“Right now, if you could help me convince my parents we’re head over heels for each other, that’d be great.”
A sly smirk peeks out of the corner of his mouth. “All right, but I may need to bend that rule of yours.”
“Why?”
“Because if we’re going to convince anyone, we need to loosen up around each other, Pres. And we need to do it fast.”
“Okay.”
His expression shifts, and he licks his lips. Is he nervous? “And since you’ve been avoiding me all week, we haven’t exactly had a chance to work our way up to anything. So I might have to resort to something drastic.”
My stomach flutters with anticipation. “Like what?”
“Like this,” he says, right before he grabs me around the waist, pulls me close, and kisses me.
I let out a tiny gasp of surprise as his mouth closes over mine, and then I’m completely lost to it. The feeling of his lips against mine. The swirling desire grows deep in my belly. The sexy groan he lets out as he slides a hand down to cup my ass.
So this is what it feels like to kiss Hollis Beck? It’s electric and consuming and slightly…familiar?
