Sexual, bold, protective, funny. A man.
A man with a black eye. And like, twenty-six tattoos, not that she’d tried to count.
His sigh carried on the breeze as he returned to the sidewalk, planting his big hands on narrow hips. “Yeah, sunbeam?”
Don’t just stand here and moon over him giving you a nickname. Think fast. “Public access television,” she blurted. “Rainstorms, Sting, calligraphy…milkshakes.”
He raised a dark eyebrow.
“You asked me what else I have a thing for,” Olive explained, clutching the book to her chest. When his mouth spread into a smile, she realized he had full, beautiful lips. Attached to his angular face, they made him look like an angel who’d spent some time in hell.
“Sting? Isn’t he a little before your time?”
“That’s the great thing about music. When you discover it for the first time, it might as well be brand new.” Since he didn’t seem inclined to come any closer, even though they’d practically kissed a few minutes ago, Olive braved up and took a few steps in Rory’s direction. Watched him plant his tongue against the inside of his cheek and breathe slowly. “If I ask what you have a thing for, will I regret it?”
Rory didn’t respond. He was probably wondering why some random chick was on a mission to make him late for work. Honestly, she was pretty impressed by her own bravery. She’d only been living on her own in Long Beach for a week. In that time, she’d learned all about ordering takeout online, assembled a butt load of furniture and explored enough of the town to go out for a walk without getting lost. Apparently she hadn’t quite conquered the ability to avoid death by speeding bus. Baby steps.
Everything she’d done since arriving from Oklahoma had seemed small. A tiny tick toward being a fully independent adult, out from under the thumb of her parents. Maybe they’d been more like leaps, though, because she was definitely flirting a little bit with a sexy lifeguard with no clue if she was doing it correctly.
The longer Rory went without answering, though, the more her confidence started to wane. She wasn’t his type. He had a girlfriend. She’d shown too much interest. It could have been any number of things that made him back off. Best to chalk this conversation up to a practice run and go back to reading. While stationary this time.
“Okay, um…” She shrugged her left shoulder. “Have a good day at work. Thanks again for preventing my early demise…”
Olive trailed off as Rory relieved her of the book, tucked it under his arm and presented his hand. “Milkshakes, right? I got you.”
“Wait. What?”
“We’re going to get a milkshake.” They both watched closely as he wove their fingers together and sparks tickled the length of Olive’s arm. “And I’m carrying your books for you while we talk about Sting. We’ve been transported back to another time and place.”
“Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
“We’ll drink fast. Come on.”
Just like that, Olive Cunningham of Muskogee, Oklahoma was being pulled along National Boulevard by a man who oozed excitement…and some definite danger. Shouldn’t she be more cautious? Yes. Certainly. But why would this man save her life only to kill her? He’d been the one to walk away, too. She’d called him back. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to have a milkshake with him in public in broad daylight.
Reassured, Olive allowed her own excitement to take flight. She watched the flex of his back and triceps as they walked, puzzled over the speculative glances he threw at her over his shoulder. Overall, though, she was relieved they hadn’t parted ways back at the intersection. Something told her she wouldn’t have put Rory from her mind easily at all.
They had only been walking for a few minutes when Rory pulled Olive to a stop in front of Mike’s Shakes. As she’d seen earlier during her internet search, the old-fashioned sign was faded, the windows were wallpapered in advertisements for local music gigs and milkshake specials. Rory opened the door to the sound of a tinkling bell, as if escorting her into a palace.
“After you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, passing beneath his arm and feeling his breath on her temple. “Th-this is actually where I’m meeting my study date.”
“Yeah?”
She hummed. “It’s my first time here, though.”
As always, when about to try something new or perform an out-of-the-ordinary activity, Olive heard her mother’s voice in her ear. Hello, YouTubers! Today we’re at Mike’s Milkshakes celebrating three million subscribers. Comment down below with your favorite milkshake flavor! Don’t forget to hit the like button.
Olive gave a rapid headshake, trying to jostle the voice free. How long would she turn even the most basic event into a YouTube video?
Rory, still holding her hand, led her to one of the few booths positioned in front of the window, sliding into the booth beside her. On the same side. He stretched his arm along the back of the seat as easy as breathing, and within those close quarters, his scent hit her stronger than it had outside. Menthol shaving cream, coffee, the faint smell of something sharp.