“Hello.” I glance around at the hubbub surrounding usand ask if there’s anything I can do to help, already knowing the answer.
“The best thing we can do is stay out of the way.”
Ben grabs two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and leads me through a corridor leading off from the kitchen. I watch his back as he directs us through the cavernous house. Stately paintings on every wall. Wallpaper embossed with a damask pattern. Heavy mahogany doors.
Finally, he reaches one of these doors and pushes it open with his shoulder.
I have to bite my lip to stop the gasp that tries to force its way out at the sight of all the books packed into bookcases, climbing from floor to ceiling on every wall.
“I thought the library at that sorority house was impressive.”
Ben hands me a glass and turns his back again, walking toward a large window and opening the curtains.
Light floods in, exposing flecks of dust in the air. I suddenly feel like Belle. But the Beast has already transformed into a handsome prince.
Ben’s watching me, biting his lip. Is he waiting for my approval? Because he has it.
“It’s mostly full of stuffy law books and first editions no one’s allowed to touch,” he says. “If it were my library, it would be full of books people actually want to read.”
“Like what?” My mouth is dry so I take a sip of my champagne. The bubbles burn in my empty stomach.
Ben shrugs, looking shy. “I don’t know. The fun classics, like the Brontë sisters.”
I almost spit my drink back into the glass. “The Brontë sisters—fun?”
He chuckles, those attractive pink blotches appearing onhis cheeks. It’s about time I fully acknowledge how attracted to this man I am. And how dangerous that is.
He takes a long sip of his champagne while I try not to watch the liquid’s journey down his throat. Try to push out thoughts of wrapping my lips around his Adam’s apple and sucking.
“What?” he asks when he catches me. “You’re looking at me like you’re about to eat me.” His eyes get wide and his face flushes deeper.
I laugh. “I was considering it.”
“Elias….” he starts.
“Yes?”
“What you said … about me being … distracted?”
Yes?My heart races. The pit of my stomach burns as I wait for him to continue.
He swallows, drops his gaze to the carpet. “Maybe it would be a good idea to …”
Yes?
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know … practice?”
My breath hitches. I try to act cool. “Practice the way we practice tennis?”
His gaze flickers back up, eyes sparkling when they land on my face, lingering on my mouth.
“Yeah.” He licks his lips and it takes everything in me not to cross the room and take him right here. Perhaps on that ridiculously uncomfortable-looking chaise.
I stop myself. Remembering that this would be Ben’s first time. And that it would be a big responsibility.
“You do understand that I plan to go out on the pro tour by next summer?”
Something flashes across his face. Disappointment? Annoyance?
