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“What? Yes! How did you know?”
She shakes her head at me like I’m missing something that she’s seeing, then looks over my shoulder toward the bar. “He’s right over there. You need to go talk to him.”
I follow her gaze and there he is, talking with Kellan, Anaya, and Kiara. He’s so easy to find because my eyes are drawn to him.
“Right now?” I ask her hesitantly, but she grins and spins me around to face my friends.
“Yes, now! I’ll find you later. Maybe we can hang out at the beach tomorrow. Now go get ’em, tiger!”
With a little shove from Naomi, my feet pull me toward Dean. Be myself. Ihavebeen myself, and all that gets me is embarrassed.
As I approach the group, Dean spots me. His smile is welcoming and distracting. So distracting that when I’m only a few steps away from him, my feet stumble over nothing and I lose my balance. I watch, horrified, as my cranberry juice goes flying.
The bright-red liquid lands all over his pristine white shirt, soaking it right through.
I threw my juice at him!
Kellan’s loud laughter knocks me out of my horrified stupor as I cross the rest of the way to Dean.
“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. Oh crap!” I need to make this right, fast. I’m not supposed to be embarrassing myself anymore and here I am. I assaulted his poor shirt! And he’s soaking wet now.
I’m too shocked to process what’s happening. I swap my empty glass for a single small napkin, which is literally the only one on the bar. I yank his shirt up and use the little napkin to wipe the juice off his skin. It’s soaked and useless in an instant.
“I’msosorry. You’ve been nothing but nice, and here I am throwing drinks at you. When we get home I’ll get you a new shirt, I promise.” The little napkin has basically disintegrated, so now I’m hastily swiping at his skin with my hand as if I can wipe the liquid off with nothing more than willpower and sheer desperation.
Dean’s gone completely still, and I feel his heated gaze boring into me. Only then do I look up at him and freeze when I realize what I’ve done—I’ve lifted his shirt and started groping him.
And I’m still doing it.
I stare at my hands, which are resting against his perfect abs, then back up at his face. His amused smile hits me right in the stomach.
“It’s okay, Lori. Really.”
Why can’t the ground open and swallow me whole? Why am I not wearing thick enough foundation to hide the blush lighting up my entire face? I probably look like a tomato. A clumsy tomato. A clumsy tomato who’sstill groping him.
Dropping my hands from him like he burned them, I take a step back with wide eyes. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” There’s a look in his eyes. He’s amused, yes, but there’s something more, something deeper and heated, and I like how it makes the butterflies in my stomach erupt.
“I—I didn’t mean to—” Yank up his shirt and go to town feeling him up.
He laughs, unbothered. “You know, this is like the third time you’ve felt me up in the three days we’ve been here,” he teases, smirking. “You must like my chest or something.”
My mouth moves before my brain can catch up. “Actually, it’s technically only the second time since the first time we were back home in front of Grant’s Gym, meaning thenewfirst time was oh my gosh I’m going to stop talking now.”
I amso cringey. I don’t even need him to talk to know what he’s thinking: that I’m a weirdo who keeps count of how many times we’ve touched.
Get out before you make it worse!
“Yeah . . . so, um . . . bye.”
With my chin tucked, I turn and scurry away before I can make anything worse, but I only go a few steps before a hand comes down on my shoulder.
“Hey, wait!” Dean says with a laugh, releasing my shoulder and coming around to stand in front of me. “I thought you were done running from me?”
I wouldn’t have to run from him if I weren’t such a total, embarrassing loser.
“Yeah . . . yes. Right. Not running. Just . . . going to stand over there.” I point in a random direction that Dean doesn’t bother looking toward.
