ChapterFour
Wynter
Weston feels it too,his eyes say it all. A small shift, not even noteworthy to anyone else who pays attention. Yet I’m definitely aware. But for the two of us, two people who have deliberately made it obvious they have a vehement dislike for each other, it’s definitely something more than nothing.
I press my lips together as I look away, back to where my best friend and Reece sit laughing and chatting with each other. Fifteen minutes after meeting face to face and they’re already sharing a laugh. If only it was that simple for me, but it never has been. It’s a fact. Relationships are never about me; it’s about what my parents’ influence and money can give them.
I smile at my friend, enjoying her company while Weston and I sit in complete silence. His cologne drifts across the table and it’s perfectly him. Clean and utterly masculine in a way that makes women, including me, fawn over him. Hell, some days my heart absorbs the feelings that infect my brain when his scent hits me. A foot taps mine under the table and I narrow my eyes at him.
He leans in and whispers low. “Think they set us up?”
Lifting my wine glass, I swirl it before taking a sip.
Classy, Wynter.
My parents have drilled it into my head since I was a child. I watch Weston as he follows suit. He’s a man who seems so confident in himself. He’s arrogant, walking around with a chip on his shoulder. He knows what he wants and won’t waste time on something that isn’t worth it. If he didn’t come off as such a playboy, I’d say we come from similar stock. Both goal oriented and determined to do a good job. He has a killer writing talent too, but I’d never say it to his face.
My eyes drift to the shirt rolled up to his elbows. Tattoo sleeves cover his arms. Of course, I’m not surprised to see some children’s pop culture icons, it's fitting for a man like Weston, obsessed with fairytales. A mixture of designs carved into his skin in black and grey ink. A few peek out of the top of his button-down, so they must run the length of his torso too. I wonder if they’re inked pictures of snowmen and frogs or if more speak to a darker, perhaps dirty theme. I shouldn’t but I imagine what it could be like to run my tongue over every inch of him, just like a scene from one of those trashy romance novels I love to read.
His ebony hair has a wave to it, nicely styled, and my fingers itch to run through the soft strands. The navy shirt he has on bunches at his biceps and hugs every curve of muscle on his core. His hazel eyes have a gold tint around the rim of his irises and they almost sparkle in the light. If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d say he’s perfect.
Too bad I’m not interested.
You are interested.A little voice in my head says and I shoo it away.
He quirks his perfectly manicured eyebrows and I wonder if they’re naturally that way or if he has them done like some men I know.
I realize I never answered his question. “Knowing Addison, it probably is a setup. She knew we were coming here tonight and chose not to tell me. She says she didn’t know it was you, but I kind of doubt it at this point.”
Wanting to change the topic, I look away briefly before taking a deep breath and continuing, “So, you have quite a few tattoos.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, I have them everywhere.”
My eyes widen in surprise before I compose my facial expression.Do they paint his chest only? Or his torso and both arms? I bet he has a tramp stamp and something just below that happy trail I imagine he has too. Nope, not going there.I chide myself.
I catch him watching as a smirk spreads across his handsome sculpted face. If only he was uglier, then I may like him less.
“What?” I ask, trying to sound indifferent.
His smile grows a little bigger right before he leans in. His warm breath breezes across my face as he speaks in that low, deep voice I can’t stop imagining. “You’re thinking about me naked, aren’t you? You’re trying to figure out where the rest of my tattoos lay on my body.”
My laugh betrays me when it comes out stunted. “Ha, I can assure you…”
“Don’t bother denying it, my little ice queen,” he says, clinking his wine glass and winking at me.
I glare at him, trying to burn a hole into that spot right between his eyes.There. Maybe if I could burn a hole in the middle of his head, he’d be uglier. I sigh. He’d probably still pull off this sexy look.
He chuckles. “It’s okay.”
My brows furrow at his statement. “What’s okay?”
“I think about you naked too, Wynter.” The wine in my glass will never be enough to soak up those few words. Turning to Addison and Reece, I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
A moment later Reece is speaking. “So… what’s going on with your apartment? Addy here was telling me we caused a flood this morning?”
Thank God.Something else that doesn’t involve being thought about or thinking about someone else in the room naked.
“Yep, but I’m sure the insurance will get it all worked out shortly.” The waiter arrives with our food and the smell transports me to little Italy.