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Something in her gaze darkens. “The scam?”
“It’s not a scam. Not really. It’s me fitting into what I have to for four weeks. With you with me? Easy?”
“Sinclair,” she says, her fingers a flirt against the skin of my nape, tangling with some of my hair as we dance, “life and things aren’t that easy. Even for you.”
“C’mon, I got you, babe.”
She rolls her eyes. “Look what happened to Sonny and Cher.”
“You’re like a walnut.”
“If that’s your flirting game, then it’s a good thing you’re a pretty man, otherwise…” And Elliot steps on my toes. Deliberately. I know this because of the satisfied curl to her mouth. “You have problems.”
“I meant, hard on the outside and it takes effort to crack you, but I’m thinking once someone does, then it’s sweet and luscious right there, on the inside. Delicious.”
She shivers and breathes in deep. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what.”
This time I smile. “Make me. I also think we look good together.”
She looks at me with suspicion. “You and me? I don’t think so.”
I want to taste her lips again, I realize. I want to close that gap and kiss her. And I don’t have an excuse for it. At all. I just want it.
“I don’t think we should do this.” She starts to pull away, but I tighten my hold.
“We need to. What if people are watching?”
“That’s an occupational hazard for you, being you. Rich or poor, people are definitely going to be watching you.”
Elliot pulls away again and this time, I let her, catching her hand as she does so and twining our fingers as we head back to our table.
I get another round of drinks, watching Elliot like she’s the most fascinating thing in the room. And that’s probably because to me, right now, she is.
“Why the hell do you think it’s what people do to me?”
“Watch you?” Our drinks arrive and she picks hers up. “That’s what they do. That waitress couldn’t take her eyes off you. You’re a beautiful man.”
“You say that like it’s a crime.”
She frowns. “I’m just stating that’s what happens, Ryder.”
“People look at you, too.”
I don’t do this. I don’t push and scratch at surfaces, I don’t dissect the pretty girl I’m with. I don’t do any of what I’m doing with Elliot to anyone else.
But maybe that’s because I don’t usually like them, not in that way. The ones I’m friends with I’ve known forever. Or they’re family. And women hand me whatever I want.
Except for Elliot.
Maybe it’s the challenge, but I don’t think so. It’s something more, deeper.
I like her.
And I’ve never had a female friend.
