“You’re a beautiful woman. You shouldn’t be lied to.”
Thank God it’s dark in here, because I’m sure I’m blushing like a maniac. “Thanks.”
“And anyway, it’s hard for me to date.” He pauses, going still like he’s taken an impulsive step down a hallway he isn’t sure he’s supposed to explore. “I’m under a lot of”—he stops again before settling on—“professional pressure.”
“That sounds deeply intriguing, Alec.”
“It’s not. Or maybe it is.” He waves this away. “But for once I don’t feel like talking about work. It’s all I’ll be doing for the next two weeks.”
“Fair enough.” I raise my glass when the fresh ones are delivered. “No work talk then.”
He nods firmly. “No work talk.”
“No ex talk, either.”
Alec laughs. “Agreed, no more ex talk.” He stares at me. “And what else is there?”
“Hobbies?”
“Hobbies. Sure.”
“Do you still skateboard?” I joke.
His face goes flat in disbelief. “Really?”
Laughing, I say, “Remember, you used to skateboard all the time down your street?” I definitely remember. I would sit on the sofa by their front window, ostensibly doing my homework with Sunny but really watching Alec and his trio of friends do ollies and kick flips and pop shoves over, and over, and over.
“Oh, I remember.” He laughs again and shakes his head. I feel like I’m missing something. “You’re a trip.”
And then Alec studies me in that gentle calculating way of his.
“What?” I ask after a long ten seconds of hyperaware silence.
“I think it’s because I’m tired,” he says, blinking to clear his trance. “And have had a drink—now another—on an empty stomach.”
I wait for the rest of it. “You think what is because you’re tired?” I finally ask.
“I remember you as this sweet, scrawny kid. Not this…” He gestures to my body, and I don’t miss the way his eyes trip over my breasts. “Woman.”
“I already said I’d sleep upstairs; you don’t have to seduce me.” I expect him to laugh or backtrack, explain in his polite way that no, no, he only meant it’s surreal to see someone after so long. But he doesn’t say that. He gazes at me patiently.
I blink down at my glass, bringing it to my lips. “But seriously, Alec. If I’m going to your room, I insist on using the pullout.” My eyes go wide. “The sofa bed, I mean.” I bark out a laugh. “Oh my God.”
Alec fights a smile. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Strike it from the record.”
“I can’t.” He grins. “It’s already out there.”
I bend, burying my face in my arms.
“It’s great.” Alec laughs. “Honestly, it’s refreshing.”
Sitting up, I gulp my wine. “In my defense, I haven’t slept in…” I calculate. “Well over thirty hours. You have no idea the stuff that’s reeling through here.” I press my index finger to my temple. “I really should just go to bed.”
He glances over my shoulder and then pulls his sleeve back to check the time. “Try me.”
“You’re asking to be scandalized.”
He laughs, a round, open-mouthed sound. “I promise, you can’t shock me.”
Is that right? I grin at him. “Are you daring me?”
“Absolutely.”
Swirling my wine, I stare at him over the rim of the glass. There’s a dark, playful gleam in his eye, and I’m tempted by it but also wary of it. What if I’m thinking this is a flirtatious moment, but he actually thinks I’m just going to tell him about an oddball scrapbooking hobby?
“Georgia, hello,” he whispers, and points to his chest. “I’m waiting to be scandalized.”
So I blurt it out, “Sitting this close to you, I am intensely conscious of the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear.”
He nods slowly, gaze heating but—to my surprise—not showing any sign at all of being scandalized. “I am also intensely conscious of this.”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew.” He sips his drink again. “You took only a carry-on for a weeklong international trip that extended for another week and were planning to be home tonight.” He leans back and adds in a quiet rumble, “Besides, Gigi, I’ve studied every inch of you in that dress.”