When I return to my place, I see Ford has already come and gone. A medium-sized rectangular box is propped against my apartment door, a hastily scribbled note on the front from my friend:Was in a hurry, couldn’t wait. See you tomorrow.
I carry the box into my apartment, depositing it on the kitchen counter as I retrieve a pair of scissors to open it. I remove the contents, and my mouth hangs open in shock.
Two sketch pads rest alongside two Caran d’Ache gift boxes. One contains their graphite line, and the second wooden box has three layers of colored pencils. This stuff is ridiculously expensive, and I cannot believe Kent spent this much money on a girl he barely knows.
It’s too much. I can’t accept it, even if my fingers are twitching to test them out.
An unfamiliar sensation spreads across my chest as I stare at Kent’s latest offering. This is nuts. Does he think I have a fucking magical pussy? Or does he truly want to know me? Is Mo right? Am I judging him unfairly?While I could say it’s easy for him to whip out his platinum card, it’s more than just the money. It’s an extremely thoughtful gift, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to give in to his request and go on one date with him.
Extracting the note from the small envelope, I read his words with growing concern for my heart.
Go out with me? Because you’re my “Mona Lisa.”
Is that even an Elvis song?Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not an Elvis fan, but Google is my friend, and Kent is on the ball. I press play on the YouTube video, listening to the legendary crooner, paying attention to the lyrics with an ever-spreading grin on my face. The notes are still corny as shit, but little by little, Romeo is chipping away at the walls around my heart, and I’m not sure how long I can continue resisting his undeniable charm.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kent
Leaning against the wall, with one leg bent at the knee and the box resting at my feet, I watch men and women spill out through the doors of the community college, searching for the feisty brunette who has my balls in the palms of her hands.
I was disappointed Presley wasn’t at the bar last night or this morning and more than a little pissed when Ford returned the gift I gave her yesterday. I don’t understand why she won’t accept it, and it’s part of the reason why I’m here now. The other is I simply cannot evict this woman from my head. She has taken up residence there, and she shows no sign of leaving.
Coming up with new ways to “woo” her is giving me a fucking headache, because I don’t know enough about her to make the gestures really count, and I’m running out of ideas.
I might possibly go insane before she agrees to date me.
I straighten up as Presley emerges from the building, an immediate scowl appearing on my face when I spot the dude walking by her side.
With his untamed hair, shabby mismatched clothing, lanky frame, and the obvious paint splatters on his wrinkled T-shirt, he looks like the stereotypical starving artist. I instantly hate him, and the second he places his hand on her lower back, I grab the box and storm off in their direction, ready to flatten his scrawny ass to the asphalt.
Presley’s eyes widen when she spots me approaching, and the guy frowns, turning slowly to face me.
Landing in front of her, I ignore the nerd. “There you are, baby.” I dart in, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she anticipates the move.
She narrows her eyes in suspicion. “What are you doing here, Kent?”
I flash her a cocky smile, pulling her into my side, pleased when the nerd glares at me as his hand falls off her back. “I’m escorting you to Ramshackle.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself,” she says, extracting herself from my side.
“I’ve driven all this way, so you might as well accept the ride.” I’m forcing myself to be polite instead of indulging my inner caveman and just throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to my SUV.
Her eyes lower to the box tucked under my arm, and I don’t miss the pang of longing on her face, which spurs me on. “We need to talk about this,” I add, patting the box before extending my hand to her. “We can discuss it while we drive.”
She stares at my hand for eternity, and I feel like a tool, especially when the asshole smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I’m seconds away from dropping my hand and hightailing it out of there when her fingers wrap around mine, spreading warmth up my arm. A deep sense of contentment washes over me as she laces her fingers in mine, and I know I’m grinning like a goober, but the reaction is automatic.
We’re only holding hands, but fuck it, it’s everything.
“Let’s go.” I tug her forward, eager to get her away from the geek.
“You’re seriously going with him?” he huffs, folding his arms. “Ishethe reason you blew me off last week?”
Presley moves to withdraw her hand from mine, and I hold on tight. Nuh-uh. It’s the first time I’m holding hands with a woman, and she isnotditching me that easy. She flicks her gaze to me briefly before focusing on the nerd. “Kent has nothing to do with it, Jimi. We’re just friends.”
Kill me now, why don’t ya.
At least friends is a step in the right direction, I suppose, so I try to remind myself it’s progress. Still, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say what I say next. “For now.” I level Jimi with a dark stare. “Presley knows my intentions.” I shoot her a cocky grin. “And she won’t be able to resist my charms for much longer.”
