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I roll my eyes at her comment. "Last I looked, you are in the market. What's stopping you?" I hop to my feet and grab the fallen frisbee. I bang it against my bare leg to shake the sand off.
"I think he has a thing for you?"
My head snaps in her direction, and I try to hide the tug of the smile on the corner of my mouth. I have an ego. It's impossible to be in my position and not develop one. Years of touring and having guys whisper nonsense does that. But it's not the loud guys with bad intentions that caused my ego to grow. It's the bashful looks of the men who lack the confidence and conviction to step to me. "Did he say something?" I ask a question I don't think I've had to ask since college.
"He doesn't have to. I see it in his eyes. Whenever you're near him, he tracks your every movement. His mind is always three steps ahead of whatever you're doing, him wanting to be there for you. To expect your needs before you even realize you have them."
I think back to room temperature water. Even this morning, when he had less than an hour of sleep, he showed up in the studio in the middle of the night with water for me. Even after I tried to kill him with my bumper cart..
"This way!" The strange command comes from behind me. Shirtless frisbee guy stands three feet from me. Washboard abs, blond curls that fall across his eyes. When he runs his hand through his hair, he reveals a set of blue-green McDreamy eyes. The corners of his eyes tighten before a broad smile shines. "You're…. Devil May Care." He snaps his fingers. "Ariel."
He glances over his shoulder, beaming at his friends. I feel a protective Emily step to my side. Time to test her theory. My hands find their way to my hips and give him the full experience. I nod.
"You're totally playing frisbee football with us." He waves his friends over, and I stick my tongue out at Emily.
"No intimidation here," I whisper.
The excited guy races up to me, his friends three steps behind him. "And you totally have to come to our bonfire tonight."
Emily steps in front of me. She's seen this scene played out enough times to know the protocol my manager has developed. Protocols I regularly disregard.
"No promises. Let's see some IDs first," Emily says as she races to her towel to retrieve her phone.
"That's my overprotective best friend, Emily," I say and toss the frisbee less than two feet at him.
He catches it and extends his hand, walking toward me. "Jon." He introduces his friends. A tumble of names that slip out of my head as soon as he speaks to them. I've gotten the one name I'm interested in.
"Can I get you a beer?" Jon says, snapping me back.
"I'd like that."
Jon snaps a finger and points to one of his friends. "Bring me the ID from my wallet and two beers for Ariel and Emily." His friend is gone before I blink, and I cover the smile pushing its way out.
Here's a man who knows what he wants and makes it happen by simply snapping his fingers. If only a certain somebody was here to take notes.
Chapter Sixteen
Adam
"Chill," Laredo warns from behind me as I pace along the boardwalk, reading the location markers on each pole.
Chill is the last emotion I'm feeling right now.
"She canceled our dinner. We have a free evening, and this is what you want to do?"
Laredo's words roll off me like water on the back of a duck. No more waiting on the sidelines. Laredo and I returned to the studio at midday. All we found was a post-It note on the studio glass—tired of waiting. A not-so-subtle dig at both of us, yet it felt like she was speaking to me. Then she cancels our evening plans.
"Dude, seriously, you need to slow down. I can smell the desperation from here."
In stride, I lift my hand and flip Laredo the bird. It's not the note or the cancellation that has me racing down the boardwalk, but the text I received from Emily twenty minutes ago.
Emily: we're at a bonfire at beach 95 west. Your window is closing. Tick – tock, hurry.
Loud footsteps pound behind me, and Laredo appears next to me with a smirk on his face. "So, you're really doing this, huh? You're going to take a shot at the brass ring?"
I brace for the criticism. He's already made his thoughts known on the subject.
"I don't want to hear it right now. I already know you think she's out of my league. And guess what? So do I," I huff out the admission and wait for the laughter.
