Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Giving me a wink, he pushes off his sports car and starts the short walk to greet me. Stark gaze, determined shoulders, his shirt ruffling lightly in the wind. Shane should come with a warning, He is a performer, but damn, I was not prepared for this show.
With brazen disregard for discretion, he takes me in from top to bottom like I’m his chosen dessert before dinner. I’m not even mad about it. Latching his eyes onto mine, he says, “Hey there, Nurse Cate.”
My entire body blushes under his gaze, especially when it travels to my mouth. “Hi,” I somehow manage to reply, though I’m not sure if I’m even breathing right now. I force myself to take one before I pass out in his arms even though I’m not totally against the idea. “What really brings you to the Valley, Shane Faris?” I ask, my throat raw with nerves. “You could have just called.”
“I think this is more fun. Don’t you, Catalina Farin?”
He remembers my name, my full name, saying it like he never forgot. I try to smother the giggle threatening to burst. “It’s all fun until someone gets hurt.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” Judging by the smirk on his face, pain is the last thing on his mind. Or mine.
I shift my bag in front of me, needing something more to hold on to. “It’s not what I had in mind.”
Tilting his head, he glances away briefly, and then asks, “And how do you know I don’t live in the Valley?”
“You’re . . .” I’m not sure if I need to point out the obvious, but he seems to be waiting. “Figured you would live in the Hollywood Hills, not by choice, but for proximity. The location is great, but Manhattan Beach or even Malibu might be more your jam. Ocean waves over city or hill views.”
He chuckles and leans in, lowering his voice. “How do you figure?” he asks as if this is the most interesting thing he’s ever heard.
“You’re from La Jolla and grew up in a house with an ocean view.”
“That was my cousin’s house. I take it you went to a party over there? They had a few.”
“Once. I wasn’t invited. Just showed up like I could blend in. I didn’t.”
“You never could.”
“Wow, okay . . .” I turn away, letting the insult sink in.
“I didn’t mean it that way. You were never like other girls. You were too pretty.”
I turn back, giving him my attention. “Go on . . .” Might as well soak it in and feed the pride demon.
When he laughs, I do as well. The release feels too good to let the tension remain between us. He says, “Nice. Too nice. You were so damn nice, a target for assholes in high school.” I hadn’t noticed we’d moved closer, the invisible line keeping us apart, broached by a few steps on both our parts. “How long were you at that party? I don’t remember seeing you.” I don’t think he meant it rudely, but the comment still stings.
He and his cousin Laird were the kings of everything, including every girl’s admiration. There was no reason for him to go looking for anything else when it was served on a silver platter to him. “Long enough to know I didn’t belong.” Making small talk with Shane Faris is not something I expected to be doing, but it’s easier than I thought, considering he was so popular in high school and even more so now that he’s famous.
“That’s too bad. We could have hung out prior to the bonfire and gotten to know each other better.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. Sure, it would’ve been nice to spend time with Shane back then, but life didn’t end at the after-graduation party, and we both moved on. So, although my stress lessens the longer we stand around, deep down, casual conversation only delays the inevitable. I rip the bandage off. “You said you got my message?”
“All five.” He may be smiling, but I cringe, tightening my hold on the bag’s handles.
“Yikes. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I go after what I want as well.”
“Trust me, it was the most awkward call I’ve ever had to make. But it’s such a relief that you already know.” That he’s not mad takes the pressure off from having to deal with that aspect before I beg him for this favor.
“Looks heavy.” Reaching over, he wraps his hands around the handles, the sides of our hands together sending heat through me from the briefest encounters. “May I?”
“Thanks.” Realizing we’re still standing for all of Parkdale to gawk at from inside, I nod toward the larger section of the lot. “My car is around the corner.” We walk in that direction, him holding my bag like it’s as light as air while I still struggle to comprehend that he’s here in the flesh. “I didn’t expect you to show up at my work. How’d you know where I was?”