Page 10 of My Charming Rival (Stars In Their Eyes 1)
Oops. There my mind went again.
“I’m an open book. I grew up in London, my parents are BBC producers, my older brother is a rock critic,” I continued and she raised an eyebrow at the mention.
“That must be a fun profession,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure he’s madly in love with his job, as well as his fiancée.”
“Glad to hear he has strong feelings for both. And you?”
“Am I madly in love with my job? Because I don’t actually have a fiancée,” I said in a faux whisper as if she’d suggested something terribly scandalous.
“Thank you for clarifying. Because you look like you’re about to be married.”
“It’s the scar, right? The rugged scar?”
That earned me a small laugh, which then turned to a quick intake of breath as she ducked. “Watch out,” she said, as a volleyball soared in my direction this time. I reached out a hand and caught it easily in my right palm. A guy in black swim trunks trotted over to me, shouting at his friend in Spanish, “Dude, you need to be more careful. You have the worst serve in the free world.”
I tossed him the ball. “I’m not sure it’s the worst serve. Maybe the second or third worst?” I offered and the guy cracked up.
“How’s your serve?”
“Not too shabby,” I said.
“Then come join us later.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Thanks, man,” he said and high-fived me before he jogged back to the makeshift court.
I turned my focus back to Jess.
“You speak Spanish?”
“I do?” I asked playfully.
“Well, you just had a whole conversation with him in Spanish,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure that was just a couple lines.”
“Either way, I’m impressed.”
“Wait until you hear my Japanese, then.”
She smirked. “Oh, I’m sure you speak Japanese, too. By the way, nice catch.”
I shrugged. “I used to be a volleyball star back in the home country. It’s huge there on all our beaches, as I’m sure you know.”
“Right up there with soccer, I bet,” she said, keeping it up.
“But the Japanese thing?” I said, shifting to serious as I took a big bite of the ice cream cone. “All true. I’m studying East Asian languages at the University of Los Angeles.”
“That’s an unusual major. I go there, too. But I’m a bio major. Pre-med.”
“I’m allergic to science classes. I have a doctor’s note excusing me from taking them.”
“And what exactly does this note say?”
“That they induce severe narcolepsy, followed by incurable boredom, and finally metastasizing into absolute numbing of the brain tissue. So, as you can see, it would not be beneficial for me to take them. And I suppose that, combined with the school’s twenty thousand–plus attendees, explains why I’ve never seen you around campus before.”
“Maybe you have seen me,” she said, posing it like a challenge. “Maybe you just don’t remember.”
I shook my head and leaned closer. “No. I’ve never seen you. Because I’d remember you,” I said, and maybe I was laying it on thick, but again, I was speaking the cold hard truth. I had an excellent memory for many things, but especially for pretty girls with sexy lips and trim little waists. Mix in the attitude, chase it with a California accent, and you were pretty much permanently imprinted on ye olde little brain of William.
Jess
He might be studying East Asian languages, but he clearly double majored in the art of flirting. “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “You’re a junior? Are you twenty? Twenty-one?”
“Senior, actually. And yes, twenty-one. So no need to worry. I’m totally legal. For anything you want,” he added, in a far-too-inviting tone that made me want to say yes to anything. My stomach flipped, like a disobedient little witch.
I shifted away from his talk of anything. Because, despite all his charms and quick wittery, something was nagging at me. The sheer coincidence of us. I crinkled my brow as I posed the question, “What are the chances that there’d be two seniors at the University of Los Angeles working for J.P. and his coterie of celebrity magazines and sites?”
“College isn’t free,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on me the whole time. His dark, stormy-eyed gaze such a contrast to that sunshiny personality.
“Hmm. That’s usually my line,” I said. Though these days it would be medical school isn’t free and the bill is due in two months for your first semester.
“Looks like we have something in common, Jess,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he took the final bite of his cone. He had the casual, laid-back attitude down pat. He looked damn fine, too, playing that role. That’s what worried me—was this whole banter-like-the-best-of-them part of a plan to bamboozle me? Was it all a role? “We’re both working stiffs,” he added.
“Seems we are,” I admitted, and I partially wondered if he was paying his way through college, too, in the pursuit of the next thing like I was, as I aimed for money to pay down the monster of med school. But if I started asking, as curious as I was, I’d wind up in a longer conversation, and that would be grade A top-choice trouble. Because I already liked talking to him.
