Tall, Dark and Irresistible (Tall, Dark and Sexy 2)

No, for now, she was better off faking that she was crazy in love with her attentive boyfriend and gainfully employed, because she couldn’t deal with her overprotective parents smothering her with sympathy and insisting that she move back home, where she was close to them again. She loved her mother and father dearly, but she was an only child, and they’d always been helicopter parents, to the point that she’d felt stifled by their constant hovering, attention, and involvement in her life.

By the time she’d graduated from San Diego State University at the age of twenty-three, she’d been desperate to spread her wings and experience life on her own terms. Taking an internship with a new fashion house and living in New York without her parents knowing every little thing she did on a daily basis had been liberating. She wasn’t about to give up that freedom now or put herself in a position where her parents had an excuse to “lovingly” nag her to return home.

Which brought her back to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Irresistible, Leo Stone, and needing his temporary assistance. That was, if he didn’t write her off as a lunatic when he learned what she’d done. But heck, it wasn’t as if they were complete strangers . . . they had gone to San Diego State together and had been in the same chemistry class her junior year, though she doubted he remembered her by name after so many years. He’d been a senior at the time, and they’d been paired together as lab partners for the entire spring term. Three times a week, for three glorious months, she and Leo had met at the lab to work on the projects and assignments required to pass the course.

Her crush on him had been instantaneous, and just being with him for those few hours a week had made her giddy and breathless and filled with anticipation. He’d been friendly and funny and easy to be around. Confident and gorgeous but not conceited. Smart but never egotistical. And when Leo had smiled at her and that flirtatious dimple in his right cheek appeared, it took everything in her not to swoon at how overwhelmingly sexy he was.

He’d been one of those guys who was the total package—rare and difficult to find in the twenty-first century, and she ought to know, because she’d dated enough trolls and narcissist alpha-holes.

Unfortunately for Peyton, he’d had a steady girlfriend at the time, and even though there had been moments when she’d felt a spark of attraction between them while they worked side by side in the lab, loyal, devoted Leo had never crossed any lines that would have jeopardized his relationship with the southern girl he’d been seeing for two years. According to him, Amanda Rockwell was the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with, and his commitment to her had only deepened Peyton’s infatuation with him.

And at the end of their term, when they went their separate ways, she’d felt as though Leo was the one who got away . . . even though he’d never been hers to begin with.

But over the years, she’d followed him on Facebook and Instagram and learned after graduating he’d gotten engaged to Amanda, though according to his social media status, they’d broken up before getting married and he was still single. She’d followed how he and his good friend, Eric, had turned their small car service into a successful business, and based on their website, they were starting to cater to higher-end clientele.

She’d scrolled through his online photos, wondering how someone could get even hotter and sexier the older they got. She’d sighed over pictures of him shirtless on the beach with friends, and the gregarious smile that still did warm, tingly things to her body. There were other snapshots of him around town or standing next to one of the luxurious cars in his company’s fleet or random pictures with his brothers—who were as gorgeous as Leo.

Even after all this time, none of the men she’d dated in New York could match the attraction and desire she’d felt for Leo during their short three months together in chemistry. So, it hadn’t been a huge stretch, after one Friday night of listening to her mother once again lament over Peyton being alone in the city, that a week later she’d come up with an incredibly brilliant idea to convince her parents that she’d met the most wonderful, amazing, attentive man to put their fears to rest.

Thus Leo Stone began starring as her new boyfriend.

Admittedly, this brilliant plan had come to her when she and her roommate had gotten silly drunk after consuming too many homemade margaritas, and with the two of them intoxicated and feeling no pain, they’d run with the outlandish idea. To the point that they’d taken Leo’s pictures he’d posted online, and with Gabby’s job as a graphic designer, her friend had easily cut out the images of Leo and superimposed them into snapshots where he was standing next to Peyton throughout the city.

Even under the influence of alcohol, Gabby had some mad Photoshop skills. Where Peyton had taken a photo with a friend at a restaurant, with a few clicks of a mouse, she was now sitting next to Leo, grinning happily while drinking an apple martini. That day in Central Park when she’d taken a selfie of her and Gabby standing on the Gapstow Bridge? Click, click, click, and voila she was cheek-to-cheek with her new hottie.

Oh, my God, they’d laughed their drunken asses off as they’d created a whole album of photos with Peyton and Leo as a couple, and since she’d been smart enough to create a separate social media profile where her parents could feel as though they were keeping tabs on her, it had been incredibly easy to keep the fabricated relationship contained. Still high as a kite on tequila, she’d texted the first photo to her parents that night before posting on the private, just-for-her-parents Facebook account, where her friends from San Diego would never see the new relationship status announcement with Leo since the page was set to private.

Her mother and father had been over-the-moon thrilled that she’d met a nice boy, and the altered photos Peyton randomly posted worked like magic. Her parents were appeased and happy, and Peyton had been relieved that she was able to just do her thing in New York without any parental worries or pressure . . . as long as she kept up the farce.

Her plan had worked too well. After nine months of her dating Leo, her parents were eager to meet him and suggested—strongly—that he join her for a week’s vacation in San Diego when her cousin was getting married so that they could get to know him better, since he never seemed to be around when Peyton Skyped them. Hence, her

current quandary.

Jesus, what a freakin’ mess, she thought as she stood next to the luggage carousel and waited for her bag to appear. She hoped to God that Leo still had a sense of humor, because being able to see the lighter side of the situation would definitely help her cause.

Her purple suitcase came into view, and she did her best to drag the heavy beast off the conveyor belt before it slipped through her grasp—not an easy feat when her bag weighed 49.5 pounds and she herself clocked in at a petite one hundred and sixteen pounds. With a giant heave of strength, she managed to retrieve the suitcase without crushing her toes in the process, and after locking in the handle, she secured her carry-on bag on top, then made her way to the pickup area.

Her jittery nerves returned with a vengeance when she caught sight of Leo in the distance. Her heart pounded so wildly in her chest she could feel it against her rib cage, and a flush of awareness suffused her entire body. She didn’t have to worry about faking it on her end, because clearly, her crush on Leo was still alive and well.

And dear God, his social media photos didn’t do him justice. In person, he looked more mature than he had in college and so damned hot it stole her breath. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a white T-shirt and a pair of casual faded jeans that looked soft and worn in all the right places. Clearly, the message she’d left for him let him know she wasn’t his average client, therefore a business suit was unnecessary. Which kind of bummed her out, because she could only imagine how amazing he’d look in a tailored jacket fitted for those broad shoulders and a pair of slacks hugging those lean, muscular thighs.

When she’d first met him in chemistry, she’d marveled at what great hair he had, and still did. Seriously. It was so thick, inky black, and soft-looking, and there had been so many times she’d been tempted to accidently slide her fingers through those strands, but could never quite figure out an inconspicuous way to make that happen. Unsurprisingly, the urge was still there.

Holding up a sign with her name in bold type, Leo scanned the crowd in the terminal. She wasn’t about to assume he remembered who she was based on their one class together. Four years had passed, and though she still had a thing for him, she was undoubtedly nothing more than a distant blip of a memory for Leo. His girlfriend at the time had been tall and beautiful and sophisticated—whereas in college Peyton had been pegged as the short, average, cute girl that hot guys always seemed to overlook.

As the travelers in front of her dispersed in different directions, Leo’s gaze skimmed past her, then bounced back as she pulled her bags toward him. As she approached, a slight frown creased his dark brows as he stared at her face—as if she looked familiar and he was trying to place her. She was pretty sure she still looked the same, except for her hair, which had changed drastically since college. What was once long and straight and fell halfway down her back was now cut to her shoulders, and instead of being a slave to a hot iron, she’d learned to embrace her more natural waves for a casual style that was easy and effortless to maintain. She now had wispy bangs, and on a whim, she’d recently added blonde highlights to her mousy brown hair.

Despite the anxiety wringing her stomach into knots, she managed an amicable smile as she closed the distance between them, trying not to let those intense eyes of his wreak havoc with her equilibrium. They were an intriguing mix of brown and green with a touch of gold shot through the irises, and she knew depending on his mood, those colors shifted and changed. Sometimes turning light with amusement, or more of a brown hue when he’d been contemplating a chemistry equation. But there had been one time in particular that they’d darkened for the briefest moment with lust before he’d quickly regained his composure . . .

When she finally reached him, he lowered the sign he was holding as recognition finally dawned across his features.

“Holy shit. Peyton Bishop,” he said in shock, clearly not remembering her name until he’d recognized her face and put all the pieces together in his mind. “Chemistry, right?”

He was a good eight inches taller than her five-foot-six frame, and she had to tip her head back slightly to meet his gaze. “You remember?” she asked, surprised and a little pleased by that revelation.

His grin was slow and mischievous, giving her a glimpse of his sexy dimple through the light layer of scruff along his jaw. “It’s kind of hard to forget the girl who literally knocked me on my ass in the middle of the campus, then proceeded to straddle me in a short little skirt while feeling me up as everyone walking by gaped at us because it looked like you were molesting me.”

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut as heat seared her cheeks. Seriously? Out of all their time together, that one isolated, humiliating, awkward incident was what he chose to bring up and focus on? “For the record, I did not feel you up.” At least not deliberately.