"Or?" I pressed lightly.
He shook his head. "Um. It's nothing." His plastic smile was back. "I would have been a crappy teacher anyway. I was never the best student, no matter how hard I tried."
"Academics isn't for everyone," I told him. Especially those who were smart, but hid the fact, even from themselves.
"What about you?" he asked. "Let me guess, straight As, full ride to uni, aced all your classes."
I shrugged uncomfortably with one shoulder. "Something like that, but we're here to talk about you, remember?" I gave him another brilliant smile, eyes firmly on his. This was all about him and then some. He'd realise that soon enough. And no flirting from his end would deter me from my goal.
"Maybe I'd prefer to talk about you," he suggested.
Here it goes.My tongue darted over my lips.
His eyes watched intently.
"I'm not very interesting," I said. "Particularly when I'm working. I tend to be very focused. After work…"
Could I give him a bigger hint if I tried?
"After working, you what?" he leaned in toward me, so close we were almost touching.
I inhaled his scent, so him, but with a touch of something new. Aftershave or cologne. Maybe the stuff they rub on injured muscles. Whatever it was, it was heady. I could get drunk just from breathing in too deeply.
He closed his eyes and inhaled. He must have the same reaction to my perfume, which was exactly the point. They didn't call itEntwinefor nothing. It wasn't my usual, floral fragrance, but for this occasion I needed to smell more enticing. Or so Grace said. Something about leading men around by their cocks.
"After work, I…" I scrambled to think of the right words. "I like to let my hair down," I said finally.
Smooth, Becca, very smooth, I told myself. I gave myself a mental head slap. I was supposed to do better than that.
I lowered my eyes, curious as to what the tattoo, which peeked out of the front of his shirt, was an image of. Only the tip was visible. It looked like an animal of some kind, maybea snake. My mind wandered further down his chest. What else would I find there? Muscles, lots of muscles. Pecs hard enough to break eggs on. He had a little chest hair, but not a lot. Enough for me to picture it meandering down his belly, down to his…
I cleared my throat and let that line of thought go before I got entwined in it myself. I wasn't here for that, I reminded myself.
Stop thinking sexy thoughts. Think about bad things, like city traffic, or the state of the country's sheep industry. Hell knows why my mind went there, but it was a safer direction than the way it had headed. Only sheep were soft and curly and…
I swallowed.
"Let your hair down, hmmm?" He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Once again, he reminded me of the boy he was so long ago. On the verge of manhood, trying to pretend he was Mr Cool, while he was just a regular, scared kid on the inside. Nothing about him today was frightened, and he'd grown into the Mr Cool persona. There was something more in the look he gave me now, calculating, like I was a play and he was trying to work me out.
"Yeah, I can see you letting your hair down," he said finally. "Stripping back the cares of the day and slipping into something more comfortable, like sweat."
He shook his head. "I mean, sweats." He set his mouth in a line and cocked his head to the side, just slightly. Those eyes turned sharp, no longer playful, and my heart leapt into my throat as he pinned me with his gaze.
"Becca Anderson. You wanna tell me what the fuck you're really up to here?"
