“What do you want to know?” I laugh hesitantly.
“Everything.” JJ’s eyes glitter at me. “I wanna know everything you’re willing to share.”
Well, this has definitely taken a turn from my tragic date earlier.
I suck in a breath and stare across the table at him and his boyish grin.
“Uh, when I was fifteen, I won a surfing competition,” I blurt out of nowhere.
JJ’s eyes widen as he leans forward. “Are you serious?”
I chuckle quietly. “Yeah, that’s all I did with my brother when we grew up.”
“You do not strike me as the type to surf.”
My mouth falls open. “Why not?”
“I’ve seen your balance. Are you sure you didn’t bribe the judges?”
I lean over the table to gently push his shoulder. “Are you going to let that go?”
“Never.” He grins, eyes glistening. “Tell me more. I wanna know more.”
“About surfing?”
“About anything. What colour was your board? I bet it was blue.”
“Wrong.” I smile smugly. “It was pink.”
JJ taps his fist on the table. “Damn it, I was going to say that next.”
When he watches me with his pretty eyes, my cheeks begin to heat.
What the hell is going on, and why am I enjoying this more than I should be?
CHAPTER 3
IVY THOMPSON
Ihate to admit that I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.
The hyena type of laughing.
With my non-date.
JJ is charming, and he knows it. But not in an arrogant way, in a charismatic way. He’s asking me questions, automatically raising him in my good books, which is absolutely pathetic because if this is my bare minimum, I need to get a grip.
Somehow, it’s gone from being a horrific night to one I wouldn’t look back on as a total disaster.
We ordered more cocktails and a pitcher of water. My mind is swaying a little, but I know I’m still in control. What I didn’t expect was for the security guards to tell us the bar was closing up for the night.
Had we really spent all night talking?
JJ sneakily pays for the bill when I’m gathering my stuff, and I scowl at him across the table. All he does is smile back in response with a wink. Instead of fighting him, I thank him, and we make our way outside.
We stand on the edge of the curb, and I cling onto JJ’s arm to balance myself. I’ll be throwing away these stupid heels the second I get home. I stare up into his blue eyes and feel my heart stupidly quiver—I’m blaming the alcohol.
I have no idea how this man—who is totally out of my league—spent the night with me in a bar. But I choose to ignore that thought. I had a good night—better than good. I shouldn’t complain.
