Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Luke

“Congratulations!” rang through the sectioned-off area of the bar as my team members celebrated, holding their glasses toward the space where I stood.

I’d just finished making a toast in their honor. Bestowing accolades in public was a great motivator for continued effort and success.

We’d landed the big account Liam had been working on, and it meant huge revenue for our firm. Liam and I would be the heroes—for a short time at least, until the next big campaign came around.

The bar was bursting at the seams with people of all ages and walks of life. We had reserved a handful of tables earlier in the day to ensure we could all sit together and make this outing our official celebration.

I’d already covered two rounds of drinks for everyone, so when the shots started coming our way from the bar, I knew I needed to check in with our waitress to be sure they weren’t on my tab. I’d seen these people drink at company functions before, and if I didn’t regain possession of my credit card, they’d likely max the thing out.

Excusing myself after a second toast, I fought my way through the crowd toward the bar.

The place had to be close to capacity. Just navigating from our tables to the enormous modern glass bar at the center of the room took forever. The music was loud and throbbing, and many of the patrons were on the dance floor bumping and grinding to the bass-heavy song.

After getting the bartender’s attention, I closed my tab and asked for a water.

“Do I know you?” a very sexy brunette said, smiling my way.

“I don’t think so,” I shouted. I would’ve definitely remembered her. She was stunning, and her expression was kind.

She looked skeptical. “Are you sure? Do you ever hang out at Saphire downtown?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve been there,” I said, enjoying the way she kept brushing her breasts along my arm. “I’m Luke.” I offered my hand.

“Hi. Lauren.”

“Nice to meet you, Lauren,” I said and slowly shook her hand.

Out of the corner of my eye, another woman caught my attention. Her long blond hair was well past the middle of her back, and she was about five inches taller than all the girls she was dancing with.

My heart rate accelerated with excitement. Was that her? The girl I’d been privately obsessing over? If it wasn’t her, it could be her twin. I hadn’t heard from her in close to two weeks of getting nothing in return to my messages, so I decided to drop the idea of her while my dignity was still intact.

When I refocused my attention on Lauren, she looked like she must have asked me something and was waiting for a reply.

I gave her an awkward smile. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Now her smile was forced. “I asked you who you’re here with?”

“A bunch of coworkers,” I explained, thumbing over my shoulder toward our tables. “We landed a big account today, so we’re doing a little celebrating.” Though I answered the woman in front of me, I couldn’t control my eyes from darting to the blonde on the dancefloor.

If the planets aligned, and we were both at the same place, I definitely needed to speak to her.

Lauren turned to scan the dancefloor when I missed another attempt at furthering our conversation. She seemed to zero right in on what held my gaze.

She turned back to me. “I get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You like ’em young. At least I didn’t waste a whole night, right?” She gave me a bitchy glare and turned and walked away.

Insecurity was my main turn-off. That woman was a ten in any man’s book, but her attitude and snotty personality were the two main reasons she was still trolling for men in a bar.

A headache was building low in my skull from the volume of the place. After I battled my way back to our group, I found Liam to tell him I was leaving. I learned a long time ago to drive separately to these types of functions. That way, when I wanted to leave, I wasn’t someone else’s hostage.

“Aw, come on, man!” he shouted. He was in full life-of-the-party mode. “You can’t leave already!” he slurred and grabbed my forearm.

“My head is going to explode from the noise in here,” I told him as I tried to regain possession of my limb.

“We’re just starting to have fun, Luke. Don’t be so lame.”

As if peer pressure still worked at my age. I laughed at the ridiculous tactic and took a step back from him. He was swaying to the music and stepping all over my good shoes while we were talking.

“I’m leaving,” I told him seriously. “Have a great weekend, and make sure you call a ride tonight.” With that advice, I headed toward where I thought the door was. Now that the lights were flashing to the beat of the music, it was hard to find the exit.

And as for the blonde I’d spotted, she’d disappeared into the crowd during my conversation with Lauren, and I hadn’t been able to locate her since. That letdown was another reason I was no longer enjoying this place and longed for the quiet of my penthouse more than anything.

Later that night, when I crawled into bed, Liam’s words don’t be so lame kept replaying on a loop. Over and over, I heard his slurred speech delivering the goading comment.

Was I lame? Was that what everyone thought of me? Or was it my immature buddy giving me shit because he never wanted the good time to end?

Finally, the medicine I took when I first got home for the headache dulled the pain enough to allow me to fall asleep. I didn’t move an inch on the mattress and caught about eight hours of dreamless, uninterrupted sleep.

So why did I still feel so drained when I woke up? I didn’t really have plans for the weekend outside of work, so there was nothing to be excited about or look forward to. That probably had a lot to do with my lethargy. I considered texting Liam to make sure he made it home safely last night, but knowing him, he’d sleep past noon and then do it all over again tonight.

Deciding to hit the gym, I left my building and briskly walked in that direction. The blonde I saw at the club last night popped in and out of my thoughts, reigniting my curiosity about Clemson. By the time I worked out, sat in the sauna, and made my way back to my penthouse, I decided I needed to try messaging her one last time. I couldn’t score if I never took my shot, or so the worn-out quote said.

For good measure, I allowed myself a peek at my social media feed to see if by some stroke of luck, she had messaged me since the last time I looked. Unfortunately, the last message in the thread was still mine, so I tried to come up with a clever way to ask her out that didn’t sound desperate or creepy given our age difference.

“What the hell am I doing?” I muttered to myself and tossed my phone back in my pocket. I was acting like a teenager, and it was ridiculous. I decided to just suck it up and ask her. If she said no, well…then so be it.

I waited until I was in the safety of my home, though, rather than squinting in the mid-morning sun to see what I was typing on my phone screen. I pulled up the same message thread on my laptop and wrote a quick, to-the-point, message.

Hey there. I hope your week went well. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me. Are you free?

Happy with the way that sounded, I hit Send before I could second-guess myself. If she said no, I’d delete our messages and never bother her again. If she said yes, I knew a great restaurant in Sea Port Village that I would take her to. We could walk around the tourist trap after we shared a meal and see where the night took us. I had a tendency to overthink and over plan, so that was exactly where I limit the brain time I’d put toward this.

I buried myself in work for most of the afternoon. Sitting outside on one of the balconies, I soaked up some sunshine and worked on a spreadsheet my boss was waiting for.

These tedious tasks were what sucked the life out of me. I always loved the rush of closing a big deal. I didn’t even mind the runaround you typically got from a client. But the paperwork and number crunching I was forced to do as a manager took the joy out of my day.

After saving the document I was working on for the better part of the afternoon, I stood and took a good stretch. The sun was over on the other side of my building, so I knew I’d been working outside for a couple of hours. My stomach let me know at the same moment that dinner wasn’t far off.

Back inside, I zeroed in on my cell phone. I’d left it on the kitchen counter while I worked so I wouldn’t be tempted to continuously check if she responded. But now that a good amount of time had passed, I gave myself permission to look. I almost dropped the damn thing on my floor when I saw she finally replied.

Hi. That’s very kind of you to ask, but I have a lot going on right now and don’t think I’d be great company. I really appreciate the offer though. Take care!

Take care? What the hell did that mean in this context? It felt like a brush-off. Like a permanent one. And come on, be serious. How much could a college student have going on? When I was in school, my biggest worries were getting laid and finding where the best parties were that weekend.

That wasn’t fair of me. I knew that. I was pissed because rejection was a bitter pill to swallow. For all I knew, the girl was having family drama or health issues, or…hell, it could be any number of legitimate things.

And how was I supposed to respond now? Hey, thanks for turning me down ? Something snarky like You have no idea what you’re missing ? Or maybe it would be best to leave the message unanswered and walk away with my dignity spared. My vote was definitely in that last camp.

After dinner I finally came up with a response.

That’s too bad. Let me know if you change your mind. I’d love to take you out. Maybe I’ll see you at the shelter again sometime.

I hit Send without thinking too much more about it and closed the app. Before I could talk myself out of it, I texted Liam to see what he was up to. There was no way I wanted to sit in my lonely apartment for the rest of the weekend feeling sorry for myself.

My buddy took an uncharacteristically long time to respond. Turned out he had a one-on-one date that night and had been getting ready. The good news, though, was we made plans for the following day for some beach volleyball and maybe a barbeque.

I loved spending time by the ocean, and even though I lived in a city with more beaches than I could count on both hands, I barely went there. I went to bed in a much better mood and really looked forward to the next day.

Sunday late morning, I parked in the public lot near the lifeguard tower we used to mark our meeting place on the sand. This beach had permanent volleyball nets secured deep in the sand. But if you wanted to claim a spot, you had to have someone arrive pretty early. Especially when the weather was as perfect as it had been the past week. Everyone had the itch to get their toes in the sand—me included.

I slung my backpack over one shoulder and checked that I locked my car for the second time. I packed a cooler at the house and left it in the trunk until I could wrangle another friend to help me carry it down to the sand. I really needed to invest in one with wheels.

“There he is!” I heard Liam shout before I could make him out in the group assembled near the net. “I’m so glad you didn’t flake out. We should have the perfect number of players now that you’re here.”

“Hey, can someone give me a hand with the cooler I brought? It’s in my trunk and packed to the top. It would be a lot easier with some help.”

Most of the guys in the group looked familiar, either from the office or from other times I’d hung out with Liam and his friends.

“I’ll help you,” a tall guy said and jogged across the beach to where I stood.

He thrust his hand toward me and said, “I’m Matt. I think we met once before on a pub crawl or something, but my memory always takes a hit after one of those nights. You definitely look familiar though.” He chuckled.

“Luke,” I said as we shook. “My car’s just in the lot there. Should only take a minute.”

We shared small talk as we did the task and made our way back to the group in no time. After setting the cooler in the shade of one of those big pop-up canopies people often used for tailgating or camping, we were ready to play.

I overheard Liam telling one of the guys we worked with that a group of girls might join us. He hadn’t said anything to me about women being here, and I now figured that was intentional. He probably thought I’d back out if I knew, and it kind of irritated me.

I wasn’t opposed to meeting new people. I just didn’t want to party with a bunch of sorority pledges. Immediately I thought of Clemson and inwardly cringed. She was the same age as the ladies Liam was always trying to jam down my throat, so what was the difference?

It had more to do with the way he described the females than their ages. Plus, I got to know Clemson a bit before finding out how young she was, so that detail never played a part in my opinion of her.

What did it matter anyway? The girl turned me down, so I needed to stop thinking about her and keep an open mind to meeting someone else. We were in the last few minutes of our second game when one of the guys spotted the group of women heading our way.

“Hey, Liam, is that them?” he asked. “Dibs on the tall blonde,” he added with a grin.

The girls got settled on their towels and blankets near the net, and we stopped playing for a quick water break so introductions could be made for those who hadn’t met.

Some of the men had been out with some of the girls before—all part of the group Liam carried on about. For the rest of us, a quick round of introductions was made. I don’t know what I’d done to finally have karma smile down on me, but the tall blonde the other dude tried to claim dibs on was my bombshell.

Clemson Farsay.

Bombshell didn’t do this girl justice. She was a freaking angel. Her golden hair caught the sunlight in shades of gold and bronze. Even the way she had it piled on top of her head in some sort of messy nest reminded me of a halo.

And her bathing suit—Jesus Christ, that bathing suit. I don’t even know how to begin to describe the body on this girl. Her legs were long and lean. Defined muscles flexed beneath her tan skin when she walked. Hell, even when she stood still, you could see the incredible shape she was in.

Her swimsuit was a one-piece from what I could see. She still had on a very short pair of cutoff jeans—so short, the pockets hung below the frayed hem in front. I couldn’t wait to sneak a peek at her ass in those tiny things. By the way they were riding up front, there had to be ass cheek visible around back.

Privately, I congratulated myself for working out that morning, knowing that my own body looked damn good from hitting the weights so hard. I wasn’t a bulky guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I was toned and defined and had plenty of confidence to be one of the shirtless guys standing there.

When our eyes locked, a slow smile spread across her glossy lips. She gave me a quick perusal and stuck her hand out like we were meeting for the first time. I have no idea what possessed me, but I tugged her closer and pecked her left cheek and then her right for the other dude to see.

It worked. He stared at us before turning his back and sulking back to the sand court.

“Let’s go! Let’s play!” he shouted and aggressively tossed the ball in the air a few times.

“Are you going to play?” I asked Clemson, not wanting to let her out of my sight now that she was right in front of me.

I wanted to blurt out how many of her photos I’d looked at in the past few weeks and how I stalked her social media accounts trying to absorb any information about her that I could.

Thankfully, I kept that all under wraps. Even I could recognize how creepy it would sound, regardless of knowing it was innocent, well-intended interest.

“Sure,” she replied. “I love volleyball. Are the teams even, though? I don’t want to throw things off if the other girls aren’t playing.” She looked at her girl gang to see if anyone else was interested. “Grace, you playing?” she called to a friend who had her back turned.

The girl whipped around at the sound of her name and bounced over to where we stood.

“This is my roommate, Grace. Grace, this is Luke…” Then said to me, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your last name.”

“Lucas Allen,” I said and offered a hand to the woman. “Clemson and I met at the shelter a few weeks ago. Hell, it may be over a month already.” I forced myself to stop there. I had a terrible habit of babbling nervously, and it always made me feel awkward afterward.

“Oh, cool. Yeah, I’ll play. But then I want to work on my tan. I have these awful tan lines from that one-piece I wore last time, and I want to get rid of them.” She pulled at the neck of her T-shirt to expose her skin.

I couldn’t see the dreadful marks she was talking about, but whatever.

Clemson lined up with my team on one side, and her roommate went to the other side. Liam swooped in immediately and started chatting with the brunette. He was so slick with women, he had the girl laughing and blushing within minutes.

I was anxious to ask him if he’d met these two before. If they were part of the party crowd he’d been hanging out with. He seemed more familiar with a few of the other girls in the group, but after their initial hugs hello, they hadn’t said much to each other.

The two girls on the court took the game seriously. They both played well, but Clemson was the natural athlete. She moved with speed and grace and even scored a point when playing at the net. We couldn’t get into much of a conversation during the game, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was completely obsessed with her long legs and missed an easy return when daydreaming about where I’d like to see those legs in relation to my face.

“Shit, sorry,” I called out, knowing I just gave up an easy point.

“Head in the game, Allen,” Clemson shouted from the opposite end of the court.

When I met her gaze across the other players’ heads, she was grinning playfully. I chuckled and shook my head and watched her get ready for the next serve.

Our team ended up losing that game but rallied back in the next one to take the set two to one. We all agreed we needed a water break and headed toward the cooler for some drinks. I packed a variety of options that morning and grabbed a water for myself before turning to search for Clemson in the gathering to see what she wanted.

The dibs guy was twisting the top off a bottle for her when I located her, and she gave him a quick thank-you. It was obvious she wasn’t interested in him based on her body language, but he was persistent. Throughout the day, it was painful to watch him continue to try to win her favor, not picking up on her disinterested signals.

How the hell were some guys so oblivious? Not my problem in this case, though. It did give my gender a bad rap, though. Not all men were so blind to the signals a woman put out.

After spreading my oversized towel out on the sand, I stretched out to catch some sun. I was just getting settled when a husky feminine voice asked, “Mind if I set up camp beside you?”

With my hand, I created a shield from the sun’s glare and looked up the long, incredible length of Clemson’s body.

“Not at all,” I said with a hard swallow.

Christ, this girl’s body should’ve been illegal in that bathing suit she wore. High-cut legs made her endless limbs seem even longer. I had never known myself to be a leg guy, but things changed immediately. I couldn’t keep my imagination from wandering down all kinds of paths about those legs wrapped around my body in all sorts of creative configurations.

Before I had an erection that would be impossible to conceal in board shorts, I needed to focus on something else. Quickly.

She laid her towel beside mine and sat down, wiggling her ass in the cutest way to make a divot in the sand.

I chuckled.

“Don’t you do that? Make an impression of your body in the sand before you lie back?”

“No. This is a new technique to me. You’ll have to give me a lesson,” I teased and immediately wanted to smack myself.

If I had to watch her shimmy her body like that again, I might expire right here on the sand.

Finally, we both kicked back and quietly enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The rest of the group milled about while others lay on their towels as well. The beach was busy today, but it was the height of summer, and nothing beat the Pacific Ocean for fun and relaxation.

Clemson said, “I could lie here all day just listening to the waves.”

I hummed in agreement because I had been enjoying the same thing. “I like hearing the kids squealing and laughing too. It all seems to be the perfect soundtrack of childhood.”

“Did you come a lot as a kid?” she asked.

I couldn’t remember talking much about not growing up here when we’d met at the shelter. Either that or she forgot.

“I didn’t grow up in California,” I said. “I moved here for college and never went back home.”

“Oh? Where is home, then?”

“Well, I was born in Anchorage. But we moved around a lot when I was young.”

She rolled to face me then, propping herself up on one elbow and creating an amazing view of her breasts. The bathing suit barely contained them in that position, and I hoped she never moved from that exact spot.

“Ahh, military?”

I turned toward her then too. “At first, yes. Then my father got a job with the government, and we moved around just as much.”

“Did that suck? Never planting roots anywhere?”

“I didn’t mind, I guess. Once I was in high school, it was a little worse. But we moved for the last time before my sophomore year, so I had a few years with the same friends. I actually knew most of the people in my graduating class. Before that, I don’t think I could name more than a handful of people that were in the same grade as me.”

When she didn’t immediately follow up with another question, I asked, “What about you? Have you always lived in California?”

“Mmm-hmm. My dad is an accountant.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing exciting about that, I guess. But I lived in LA my whole life.” She shifted to lean back on both elbows, and I couldn’t help but notice how flat her stomach was.

“Are all these girls on your swim team?” I asked.

“Some are. Those five over there. They’re the ones that know your friends, I think. Grace isn’t on the team, and her other two friends there”—she motioned to the small group of girls splashing around at the water’s edge—“aren’t either.”

Finally, I put two and two together. I wondered if Clemson was one of the girls that Liam had been trying to fix me up with all this time. Every time he tried to coerce me into going out with them, he would say the girls had another single friend that was looking to hook up too.

From the short conversation I had with those girls, though, Clemson seemed nothing like them. It was hard for me to imagine they were close friends. Not like the vibe I got between her and her roommate, at least. In fact, since the moment they all arrived at our spot on the beach together, I hadn’t seen her speak to any of the party-girl gang.

“Do you all hang out a lot? I don’t remember seeing any of them at the shelter,” I said, trying to understand their friendship.

She shook her head. “No. To be honest, I don’t really like them that much.” She nonchalantly motioned to the giggling group talking to Liam and his friends.

“Can I ask why you’re here, then? Sorry if that was rude,” I apologized after registering how off-putting the question sounded. “I’m really glad you are.”

“No need to apologize. It’s kind of a long story. Those three”—she darted her eyes to the same girls again—“have basically been harassing me to hang out with them. Not really sure why, but the ringleader there, well, she can be pretty pushy. So, when they mentioned the beach this morning after practice, I figured it was a good way to get them off my back plus do something I actually enjoyed. I dragged my roommate along for an extra layer of protection and, well…here we are.”

She forced a bright smile, and it was almost painful to witness. I’d seen how radiant her genuine smile was, and this fake one just made me dislike the other girls more. I could sense how uncomfortable she was explaining the situation, and it bothered me.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come along. It’s funny because my buddy there”—now I motioned toward the same group where Liam stood talking with her teammates—“was pretty much doing the same thing to me. Bugging me constantly to come party with these girls they’d been hanging out with. But that’s just not my scene, you know?”

“I hear you.” She nodded. “I know I’m their same age and all, but clubbing just doesn’t do it for me.” She laughed a bit. “I guess I’m not like other people my own age.”

Time for a topic change. “So what else do you have planned for the summer? I think you said you’re from LA. Headed home for the next couple of months?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m staying here in San Diego. I need to get a job, and fast, so I can save up some cash before classes start again.”

It had always been my nature to fix things, so I asked, “What are you looking to do? Maybe I know someone.”

Her reaction concerned me. Maybe I was coming on too strong. She didn’t recoil, necessarily, but I definitely noticed her guard going up. Well, it was too late to take it back, so I just let my offer hang in the air between us.

“It doesn’t really matter. I just need money. Hell, I’d even clean houses or wait tables. Although I doubt I’d be very good at that,” she said with a chuckle.

“Some people make pretty good money with tips and all.”

“Yeah, but I’m so clumsy. It would be my luck to dump someone’s meal in their lap or slip and fall or something embarrassing like that.”

“What’s your major?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer from my online investigating.

“Biology, at the moment. Not sure if that’s going to stick, though.”

“You’re probably just getting into the classes that have more to do with your major, no? The first two years are usually general ed stuff, right?”

“My grades weren’t great this past semester,” she said with a heavy sigh. “There are a few required courses I might have to repeat if I can’t get the professors to work with me over the summer.”

“That might make working hard if you also have to fit summer school in your schedule.” Maybe I was stating the obvious, but I was enjoying our conversation too much to let the tempo drop.

Clemson slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m trying to figure it all out. Probably another reason spending the day at the beach sounded so good. My stress level is off the charts right now, and I just want to play in the ocean and soak up sun. You know?”

I smiled at her comment. I appreciated how open she was being with me and how easy it was to just sit and talk with her. It seemed so long ago that the worries of my world could be solved by a little salty air.

She made a fair point, though. I hadn’t thought about work deadlines or financial reports or any of the usual bullshit that raced around in my mind since sinking my toes in the sand today. Maybe the beach had healing powers I had forgotten about.

We all played another game of volleyball, and then the few who were brave enough took a dip in the waves. The water was colder than I expected for the time of year, but we’d had a lot of rain through the winter and spring, and that could’ve had something to do with it.

Clemson and Grace, her roommate, dove into the waves like the freezing temperature was nothing. I couldn’t help but watch her graceful form as she cut through the surf like a fish, making swimming out past the break look effortless.

When she called to me to follow her, I stayed rooted to the ocean floor in the knee-high water. I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t a strong swimmer like she was, and there was a good amount of nerves involved with my choice to stay put. The last thing I needed was an embarrassing incident like needing to be rescued by the girl I was crushing on as I was swept out to sea by a riptide. That thought made me wade a little closer to shore rather than venture out farther in her direction.

“No way,” I shouted to her over the loud pounding of the surf.

She must’ve picked up on my uneasiness, because she didn’t heckle me about not going out farther, and in no time was swimming back toward land and closer to me.

“Too cold for you?” she asked with a grin as she surfaced near me. Her long hair was slicked back from her face, and her big blue eyes looked enormous. It was clear how happy she was in the water. Her face was animated, and her eyes danced with life.

“It’s a bit cold, but to be honest, I’m not a strong swimmer. It makes me nervous when I can’t touch the bottom.”

Why did I just admit that?

The words tumbled out before I could think better of it.

“Ahh, makes sense, then. It’s good to know your limits in water like this. There’s a pretty strong current at this beach, and I’ve seen lifeguards run out to help swimmers many times.”

We waded back to shore and chatted more about her swimming career. I let her do most of the talking because I felt a bit winded. She, on the other hand, was completely at ease. Like the exercise was no strain at all.

She walked in front of me to our towels, and I admired her tan back and ass. The woman had the smoothest skin I’d ever seen, and now that the sun had kissed it a bit more, she was like a golden goddess.

She must’ve asked me something while I was enjoying the view because silence bloomed between us when I should’ve answered.

“Sorry?” I said, embarrassed that I was so lost in admiring her.

“Were you checking out my ass, mister?”

“I totally was,” I admitted. “I’d apologize, but that would be a lie, so I’m not going to do it.” I laughed. “You’re gorgeous. You have to know that.”

Clemson gave me a shy smile as she dried her face, then ruffled the towel through her hair. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. I actually appreciate your frankness. I hate when guys wreck a compliment by wrapping it up in some cheesy line.”

“Noted.” I nodded and dried off a bit too before lying down on my towel to let the sun dry me the rest of the way. “This has been a great day. I can’t remember the last time I went this long without thinking about work.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled across her shoulder. “Are you one of those guys who works too much?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes there’s no way around it. Sometimes it’s just out of boredom. I’d rather work on a campaign or something than watch TV.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Not a big TV watcher either. My roommates, however…” She rolled her eyes. “They watch a lot of reality crap. I can’t stand those shows.”

“It’s garbage. Mostly, if I have the set on, it’s the food channel,” I told her.

“Do you like to cook?”

“A little. I like to eat more.” I laughed. “Since I’m alone, it’s either figure it out or order in. I get tired of eating out of to-go containers, you know?”

She nodded, then leaned back to enjoy the sun. Since she had her eyes closed, I took in the long line of her body again before closing my eyes too. A nap sounded perfect, but if I fell asleep in the sun, I’d definitely regret the burn later.

I really wanted to ask her out. How much hell would I catch about the age gap, though? Did that even matter? Honestly, I was pretty tired of caring what other people thought about how I lived my life. I spent my whole life people-pleasing, and look where it had gotten me.

Sure, I was successful in my career, but my personal life sucked. I was tired of being alone, and worse than that, being lonely. Even though my parents were gone, I could hear their voices in my head during every big decision I made. It was time to get out from under that mental scrutiny and live my life the way I wanted.

As the sun went down, and we all packed up our stuff, I watched Clemson from several yards away. I waited for a chance to catch her alone again so I could try to set something up.

The group walked in different directions to our cars, but luck was with me because she was parked just a few cars down from mine. I tried to help her carry her stuff to her car, but she was fiercely independent and refused. Instead, she was loaded down like a pack mule carrying her stuff and half of Grace’s. The roommate drank a bit too much and was stumbling through the parking lot alongside her, catching more attention than I preferred from passersby.

Clemson got her friend settled in the front seat after starting her car and getting the air conditioning going. After she closed the passenger side door, it was time to make my move. I’d kick myself if I didn’t at least try.

“Hey, wait up a second,” I called to her as she reached for the handle of the driver’s side door.

I strolled over to her so I wasn’t shouting and asked, “Can I get your number? I’d love to see you again.”

“Umm…” She shifted her gaze around the immediate area. “Is that a good idea?”

I had no clue what to make of that question. “What do you mean?”

She looked around quickly before asking, “Won’t you catch a lot of shit with our age difference?”

“I don’t really care what other people think, and I really enjoyed talking with you and hanging out today.” Not to mention how smoking hot she was, but I wouldn’t make the exchange uncomfortable by blurting that out.

“I had a great day too. And you’re a really nice guy.”

I knew what was coming next.

But before I could say anything to let her off the hook from having to turn me down directly, she continued.

“I’ve got a lot of balls in the air right now. I don’t know how great of a date I’d be.”

Okay… It seemed like hope was still alive here. “Why don’t you let me decide that? I’m just talking about a date. See where things go from there.”

“How about this? You already figured out how to get in touch with me. Maybe we can set something up. I just have so many irons in the fire, as they say.” Worry creased her brow, and I was getting the feeling there was more to this than a casual brush-off.

“Do you need to talk about it? I’m told I’m a great listener…”

She was shaking her head before I could finish. If I wasn’t mistaken, tears were flooding her big blue eyes too.

She inhaled deeply like she was trying to regain her composure. “I wouldn’t want to unload all my nonsense on you. I’m sure you have way more important things to occupy your gray matter.” She plastered on that fake smile, and once again, it made my stomach turn on itself.

“Well.” I sighed. “The offer stands. And I will message you if that’s the way you want to do this. I’m not giving up. I really enjoy hanging out with you.”

“You’re sweet,” she said and touched my arm.

It sounded like a platitude, but the live energy that zapped through my skin from the contact had me rethinking that in a second. And the sensation her little touch incited made me hunger for more. So much more.

The look on her face told me she felt it too.