Page 23 of Stalk Me (The Keatyn Chronicles 1)
My cheeks flame thinking about being on a real date with Vincent. “Okay, then it’s a thanks-for-being nice-to-you thing. Dinner, w
hatever. ”
“Is that what you think?”
“I’m not sure what I think, honestly. I just said that because you’re obviously too old for me. ”
“And you're probably not old enough for me. ” As he reaches over to grab the bottle of wine, his hand brushes across my knee. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an accident. “Now, tell me how old you really are, Miss High School Drama,” he says as he refills my glass again.
“You’re serving me alcohol,” I whisper. “Do you really want to know the answer to that? Plus, I can't tell you here; they think I'm old enough. ”
“Then tell me quietly. ”
I look around and notice the waiter is giving me a stare down. I decide it’s best not to say it out loud, so I put my index finger on top of the scrolling Abby tattoo on his forearm and draw my finger down it in a straight line.
“The first number is a one?” he asks.
I nod. Then I trace an eight and tell myself it’s the truth.
“Well, that's a relief,” he sighs. “People are already looking at me like I'm robbing the cradle. At least you're legal. ”
Vincent squints his eyes at me, and I think he’s just figured out I’m lying. Damn, I tried to use my most trustworthy look.
He taps his finger a few beats on one of the pillows. “You’re lying to me. Tell me the truth this time,” he says in a stern voice.
I trace another one down his forearm. Then I trace a six.
“Seriously?” he says, holding my gaze. “You do not look,” and then he takes his finger and slowly traces a sixteen on my forearm.
I close my eyes and let out an involuntary, “Mmhmm,” when his finger glides across my skin.
I should not have done that, because Vincent looks concerned by the fact that he practically made me orgasm just by tracing a number on my arm.
“When will you be?” He traces a one slowly on my wrist.
I swallow hard and try not to act like a horny, sixteen-year-old boy. But I can’t help wondering what that finger could do to the rest of me. What a man could do to the rest of me.
Okay, Keatyn. Stop.
Stop this.
You're being ridiculous. He wants you for a movie, nothing else. Stop with the silly school-girl crushing and be professional. That's Mom’s number one rule. Don't get involved with anyone in your movie.
When he traces the figure eight, I don’t sigh. I pretend like it didn’t affect me.
“Next August,” I say flatly.
He leans back on his elbows across the platform, and I can tell he’s doing some mental calculations.
“So, technically, I have fifteen months until you're legal. ”
“I won't tell if you don’t,” I flirt.
“Unfortunately, you will when you fill out the paperwork,” he pauses. “Assuming you'll want to be paid for the role?”
“Uh, well sure. ”
“You have to put your social security number down, and we’ll have to follow child labor laws until you graduate from high school or turn eighteen. ”
Child labor laws? He’s talking about how many hours I can legally work? Oh, I'm so dumb! He’s not the least bit interested in me. He’s not flirting with me. I deserve dumb boys, not this gorgeous man.
I can't hide the disappointment from my face.
“What’s the little pout for?” he says.
“Nothing,” I sigh. “Just wishing I was older. ”
He cocks his head at me. “Are we talking about the movie?”
I just shrug my shoulders and gulp down some more wine.
He refills my glass again.
I know he’s just being polite and gentlemanly and all, but I’m not completely sure how much I’ve had. He’s never let my glass get empty.
The wind blows a piece of my hair out of my barrette and across my face. Vincent slides his hand gently across my forehead, catching the offending strand, and tucking it behind my ear.
The way he touches me is so tender.
Our gazes are fixed on each other.
The waiter comes by and checks our now empty wine bottle. “Another, sir?” he asks, which breaks our little moment.
Vincent gives the waiter an irritated glare. “Yes, please. ”
He turns back toward me and says seductively, “So do you want to make a movie with me?”
I answer with a breathless, “I do. ”
Vincent pours wine out of the new bottle and pops a shrimp in his mouth.
“I think we're gonna need to do this a lot. ”
“What? Sit on the deck and get drunk?”
His face sobers. “Shit. Are you getting drunk?”
“No, I'm just teasing. But I should probably have some water before I drink much more. ”
“I like getting to know you,” he says softly.
“I like getting to know you too. ”
And I do. He has his sunglasses up on his head now, so I’ve been studying his dark, thick eyelashes. His deep mocha eyes. When the sunlight hits them right you can see the blue of the ocean reflected in them.
“I’ve just decided something about the movie. ”
“What’s that?”
“Whoever we cast as your love interest will be ugly, and there will be no kissing scenes. ”
“You can't do that if you want a blockbuster. People are suckers for romance. And happy endings. ”
The look that crosses his face makes my cheeks feel warm, and I’m sure I’m blushing. “I mean, uh, they like happily ever after and all that. ” OMG, I am such an idiot. I can’t believe I just said that!
“I know. I was just teasing you, since you said you’re done with boys. I used to say that about girls when I was in high school. I always thought I was so mature. I wanted a woman. I’ve always kind of had a thing for older women. ” He stares at me for a few beats then says, “So, I know you can surf, which would help if I change the title to something like A Day at the Beach, but what other talents do you have?”
