Keep (Seaside Pictures 2)

I shook my head. “Let me guess, travel size?”

He smirked. “You’re catching on.”

“A terrifying thought.”

“Or the best one you’ve ever had?”

“Nope.”

“Worth a shot.” He swallowed, and the motion drew my eyes to his perfectly sculpted neck and shoulders. Why was he so pretty? His nose piercing caught the light and flashed like a camera in my direction.

A good reminder.

His life was flashy.

Mine was not.

“I’m not dropping this whole scenario about being the best you’ve ever had, so you may as well tell me the story…besides, by your body language, I’m assuming I’m not going to get many more dates.”

I snorted. “That’s highly doubtful.”

“Take off your glasses.”

“Huh?”

He reached for my glasses and slid them off, setting them on the table with more care than I thought him capable of. “There, that’s better. I want to see your eyes.”

“But I can’t even focus on you!”

“Your eyes are huge.”

Shame washed over me as I reached for my glasses but his hand covered mine, holding it against the table.

“It was a compliment.”

“Oh.” My shoulders refused to perk back up as I slumped farther in my seat, my eyes focusing on the white table cloth, which was the only thing I could make out, and even that was so blurry the table kind of looked like a giant marshmallow.

“So, you’re a maid for the resort in town?”

I nodded, relaxing as I leaned back in my chair. “It was a summer job. They usually let me go during the down season, but since I wanted to save some extra money, they let me stay on until I go to college.”

“How much do you work?”

“Ten hours a week. It isn’t a lot, but it’s hard to get jobs here.”

“I want to hear about the worst room you’ve ever cleaned.” He laughed, I couldn’t tell if he was still smiling because I literally couldn’t see his face, just a blur where it should be.

Oddly enough, that set me more at ease.

“Well…” I thought about it, and a couple came to mind. “There was one room that had used condoms all over the floor, and when I say all over I mean, they were everywhere, like an orgy had taken place.”

“Were a lot of people staying in the room?”

“No.” I laughed at the memory, “It was an elderly couple. They’d been married over forty years and were celebrating their anniversary.”

“Go Gramps.” Zane nodded his appreciation then crossed his muscular arms.

“Yes.” I cringed at the mental picture. “It was a rough two nights, let’s just put it that way.”

“I don’t use condoms,” Zane announced in a low voice.

I rolled my eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? The great Zane Andrews doesn’t practice safe sex, some Saint you are.”

“There you go making assumptions about my character again.”

“What other assumption is there to make? You just said you don’t use condoms.”

He was quiet and then whispered, “I don’t.”

“So you have unprotected sex.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“But—”

“Yes, we’ll have two Helgas.” Zane said in an authoritative voice, just as I registered a presence hovering near my left elbow. “And a milk for my little sister.”

I kicked him under the table.

He bit out a curse. With a whisper of fabric, the waitress left, or must have left, since I still couldn’t see much. At least I no longer felt someone standing there.

“Did she hear the entire conversation?” I asked quietly, somewhat mortified.

“Only the good parts.” Zane laughed. “So, what did you do with the used condoms?”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

“Why wouldn’t we talk about this?”

“It’s a date.”

“People don’t talk about used condoms on dates? Damn it, I’ve been doing it all wrong!”

I fought the losing battle with a smile.

“You should do that more often,” he said softly. “Smile. You know, the world isn’t out to get you.”

“Just you.”

“What was that?”

“Just you.” I said, this time, louder. “I don’t want to get comfortable with you.”

“Because I’m Satan?”

I laughed and tried reaching for my water.

“A little to the left.”

“Thanks.” My fingers fumbled with the glass as I lifted it to my lips, nearly spilling ice all the way down my shirt.

“So close.” Zane whistled. “I’ve always wanted to go on a date where the girl just magically splashes herself with a glass of water in hopes to lure me into her bed.”

“Not luring,” I corrected. “Just blind, can I have my glasses back yet?”

“Nope.” His laugh was deep, wicked.

Why? Why was this happening to me? Why was he happening to me? I released a sigh.

“Why can’t you get comfortable with me? What’s so bad about making new friends?”

I thought about it. The answer was as complicated as it was simple. After a moment, I whispered, “Friends leave.”