“Not much,” I answer with a forced smile.
Politeness is always my go-to just in case the person I’m chatting with is a Glammer on the down-low. Judging by this dude’s skintight white shirt and black leather pants that threaten to rip, he’s not a subscriber. Liv would never recommend that kind of style.
He leans closer and loops an arm around the back of my chair. His fingers brush across my skin and send a shockwave of disgust rolling through me.
Jerking away from him, I snatch up my drink and hold it up like it’s some kind of shield that will protect me from him, but the jerk doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s gotten on my bad side. I play nice most of the time, but this guy is pushing it.
He drags a hand through greased hair and winks at me. “This party is hella lame. How about you and I bounce?”
“Bounce?” I echo, voice rising. A few people around us are starting to glance over at us and I lift my drink a little higher. “Oh, I’ll bounce. I’ll bounce you straight to—”
“Darlin’, I was just looking for you,” a deep and husky voice drawls suddenly, interrupting me before I can make a scene.
To my surprise, another man has eased up next to me.
I turn my head to look at the newcomer, who simply smiles knowingly at me. I don’t recognize him at all, but I can tell he’s trying to save me from the sleazeball on the other side of me. Not only is this new guy cute, but he has some serious style too. He’s wearing a fitted black suit that makes his blue eyes absolutely glow. A thin, black tie rests against a white button-up shirt that strains over visible muscles. His is a classic style, but it fits him flawlessly. His gaze is gentle and warm before it narrows warningly on the other man. He pushes the gross guy’s hand away from me and sweeps me to the side so that there’s space between me and the creeper.
“How about we go get some air, darlin’?” the stranger masquerading himself as my suitor suggests. When he speaks, he has the sweetest southern twang I’ve ever heard in my life.
They don’t make men like this in LA, that’s for sure.
Before I can even fathom a response, he’s whisking me toward the staircase leading to the rooftop terrace. I can only dazedly follow along.
Who is this guy?
And why are his eyes the most dazzling shade of blue I’ve ever seen in my life?
CHAPTER THREE
“After you,” the handsome stranger says as he pushes open the door leading out onto the terrace, then steps aside to allow me to walk out ahead of him.
Smiling at him a little uncertainly, I slowly take a step onto the rooftop promenade.
The music playing out here is much more mellow than the pulsing beat downstairs, and long garlands of lights strung around the pergola twinkle brighter than the stars above us. I catch my breath. From way up here, I feel like I can see all of LA. It’s like being on top of the world. It leaves me feeling breathless and invigorated. I’m so glad that I came to the party tonight, if only for this sight.
My rescuer waves over one of the servers carrying a plate of drinks and puts in an order for the both of us before leading me to an empty couch situated in the far corner of the terrace.
“I thought we could sit here for a few minutes so you can collect yourself,” he explains as he sits down beside me. “Plus, we can also see if that ruffian decides to follow us up here.”
I’ve never heard anyone use the termruffianbefore, and it makes me giggle. I’m not too worried about the jerk bothering us, but the couch is comfy and I’m very curious about who this mysterious man is, so I oblige him.
It’s a little chilly way up here and I find myself shivering just as the server arrives with our drinks—another Long Island iced tea for me and what looks like a Jack and Coke for him.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
He doesn’t even wait for me to answer before he starts shrugging out of his suit jacket. Concern makes his dark blond brows draw together as he holds it out to me.
Just whoisthis guy who’s willing to give me his jacket before he’s even given me his name?
No other guy I’ve ever met has ever been that chivalrous. I feel like most men in LA—Kali’s boyfriend, Grayson, excluded, of course—have never even heard of gallantry.
I consider myself fiercely independent—which is probably part of why I haven’t been in a relationship in a while—but it’s nice when a guy shows some common decency for once.
“I’m a little chilly,” I answer honestly.
He drapes the jacket around my shoulders and the lingering heat of his body and the scent of his cologne on the soft, expensive material warms me up even more than the cocktail I had a few sips of earlier.
The guy is not only sweet, but he’s also handsome as can be. Dark blond hair hangs into ocean blue eyes and his body is absolutely killer. He looks like a runner type, or at least someone super active. I blink hard in an attempt to stop my wandering imagination from conjuring an image of him running in a pair of gym shorts with the SoCal sun beaming down on his shirtless, chiseled bod.
