Sebastian walks over and casually drops an arm over my shoulders. “Hey, buddy! Ready to go?”
I heave a giant, agitated sigh and try to shrug out of him, but I fail as his hand grips my shoulder tightly to hold me in place. “Oh, and Sebastian,” Audrey says as she starts to walk toward Josh’s SUV. “She’ll probably need a lift to work tomorrow morning, so maybe you should just spend the night.”
“Audrey!” I snap, my face flushing instantly. I throw my empty beer can at her.
She dodges it and laughs. “Call me tomorrow, Shaynie!”
I raise my middle finger at her even though she can’t see it in the dark. Refusing to acknowledge the cocky smirk Iknowmust be on Sebastian’s face, I finally peel out of his arm and retrieve my empty beer can and throw it in the garbage. Sebastian pours the rest of his on the fire, extinguishing it completely. I glance around subtly and am relieved to find Carly, his blond admirer, seems to be gone. I was worried he would drive her home too. At least now I know he’s going to take me home and not fuck her in his car immediately afterward.
Unless he heads to her place after he drops you off,my brain reminds me. It’s not unimaginable to me because it’s happened to me. My first college boyfriend, Dustin, used to drop me off early after dates claiming he was tired from hockey practice and then spend all night at sorority parties picking up girls. I push down the uncomfortable thought and turn to where Sebastian is dumping the ice from one of his coolers onto the now-dead fire. He looks up as I grab my bag off the picnic table and pick up his other cooler. He smiles. It’s not the cocky, smartass smile I’m used to. It’s softer, gentler, more humble. I like it just as much as his cocky one.
“You going to tell me where you live or should I just drive aimlessly around the city?” he asks me softly as he loads the coolers into the trunk.
“Head west. I’ll talk you through it,” I reply and walk to the passenger door.
He opens my door and then walks around and gets in the car. Wow, his game is on point. He can play the flirt, the cocky egomaniac and the gentleman. I’m sure he figures one of these personas will work on me, but I’m not like other girls. I try to ignore the pointed little voice in the back of my head that says I’ve already given in to him, just like other girls, and that I want to give in to him again. Because damn it, he’s hot. And he wasn’t blowing me off. He was out of town. He could be lying to me, but my life is generally a series of badly timed events so I can totally believe I met the hottest man on the planet the day before he got on a plane.
He starts the car and begins down the narrow, dark street. I keep stealing glances at him while he drives, when the occasional streetlight illuminates his profile. His hair is wavy from the lake water, and he’s got significant five o’clock shadow happening on his strong jaw.
“So how are you a millionaire?” I can’t help but ask.
“Guess.”
“Dot-com? You invented a popular website? An annoying app that the kids are obsessed with?” I say partly joking.
He chuckles and it’s so deep and sexy I feel it between my legs. “‘The kids’? What are you, eighty years old? In your day did you walk to school uphill in a snowstorm in bare feet?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. When we’re both quiet, he shakes his head. “Not a dot-com.”
I stare at the dark road ahead. “Trust fund? You’re parents are rich, so you don’t have to do anything but gym, tan, laundry all day every day.”
He makes a face like he ate something rotten. “No trust fund. I earned my money.”
He has a proud tone to his voice, and it makes me even hornier for him. I may not care about money, but I do care that whomever I date is a self-made man. I mean, not that I’m dating him. Because I’m not. He hasn’t even asked me on a date. He might not…
“So what then?” I demand.
“Nah. I like this game. You’re going to have to earn it,” he says firmly. “Keep guessing.”
Chapter 10
Sebastian
“Right on Frey,” she murmurs as I drive, taking a break from our little guessing game. So far she’s guessed internet mogul, trust fund baby, international spy, French winery owner and porn star. That one I took as a compliment.
I nod and turn the car as directed. It’s risky letting her guess, in case she says professional athlete, but I also like the way she’s getting flustered and slightly annoyed. There is something about keeping her off balance that I find ridiculously addictive. I’m totally shocked that she agreed to let me drive her home, because she’s been nothing short of an ice queen all night. Except for about a second in the lake, but that came and went so quickly I’m not even sure it was real.
“So how come you didn’t ask Trucker Hat for a lift home?” I can’t help but ask.
“Not interested,” she replies lightly with a shrug. “And before you say something snarky, remember, I didn’t ask you to drive me home either.”
“But you didn’t object,” I remind her. She frowns, points left and I turn.
She sighs like she’s disappointed and points to my right. “The tall one on the left at the end.”
“This is…an interesting area,” I tell her and gently do a U-turn so I can park against the sidewalk next to her building.
“It’s not as sketchy as it looks,” she murmurs as we watch a guy with a shopping cart full of cans go by across the street and turn into an alley.
