“That would be Americans from the fifties and sixties, but definitely not.”
He peered over at me. “I’d snack on you all day.”
“That is not the caloric intake you need, pal.” I wiggled my butt. “Come on. We both need a shower and then we need a trip to Micky’s.”
“Who’s Micky’s?”
I shook my head. “More like what. Your boardwalk knowledge is sorely lacking, sir.”
“Isn’t boardwalk food fried dough and taffy?”
I pushed him off the bed. “Definitely lacking. That might go over well in a New York fair. Believe me, I’ve enjoyed my share of them. And you haven’t lived until you’ve had my aunt Laverne’s cider donuts.” Yeah, I really needed to get back to Turnbull after I figured out my show. “But you’re in California now, dude. This boardwalk is very, very different.”
“Well, I’m from England. It’s all different.” He frowned. “I did visit the boardwalk the day I found you at the skate park—” He broke off. “Obviously, I missed a few vital things.”
“Let me show you my world.” I shook off the momentary darkness from the memory of that day and laughed. “Now I sound like a Disney flick.” I pushed him off the bed. “Shower.”
“Will you scrub my back this time?”
I threw my pillow at him. “Maybe.”
He picked it up and tossed it back. “Well, then get moving before I start eating your paints.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’ve eaten worse.”
I laughed because he needed me to, but part of my heart lurched and twisted. I’d show him just how amazing a day with me could be.
And I’d hope I didn’t get so hopelessly attached I could never break free.
Seventeen
He was wearing another one of my shirts. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about him nearly fitting in them. I mean, I knew that I never wore one that was actually my size, but still.
The shirt he’d worn the night before smelled like a million different perfumes and sweat. That, and it was way too rockstar to be worn on the boardwalk.
I put my hands on my hips. “We can buy you something while we’re out.”
“Yeah? Can I keep my stuff in a drawer?”
I squinted at him. “Very funny.”
“Come on. You have to have a little room.” He moved into my space, noodled his arms through mine to slide his fingers into my back pockets. “I can wear it all day then you can wear it to bed while I’m gone. Tell me how it feels against your skin when I call you late at night. I’ll eat up every detail. Especially the part where you slip those strong fingers between your thighs.”
I tried not to shiver at the idea of that.
It was so simple and dirty at the same time. As if we were in a long-distance relationship already. It was everything we’d never be.
I’d fallen for a charming man before. I knew how easy it was to let the lies and the what-ifs sound like reality when it was all fiction.
Finding out later it was because Robbie had been bunking with a new babe hourly hadn’t really helped matters. Once he’d gotten in my bed, he’d lost interest.
How I ended up with another man just like that didn’t make sense. Then again, I’d backed into whatever this was with Ian. We were hot and addictive now, but soon enough, he’d forget my name. I’d just be an artsy California girl he’d spent a few nights with.
He lowered his mouth to mine. “Just today, Zoe. I know. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
I lifted my hands to his shoulders. The pink shirt with the white kitten on the front was ridiculous—but at the same time, it was so Ian. Careless and soft over raw edges.