California Nights (Rich Boys of California Duet 1)

“Hi!”

“Clay, you remember Frannie, right?”

“Frannie. Right. What are you guys doing?”

“Celebrating! I’m taking Nevvie out for ice cream.”

I tilted my head, staring at the blush that tinged Nevada’s cheeks.

“What are you celebrating, Nevvie?”

She glared at me, glancing at Brett and Peter.

“I got a job.”

“At the club?”

She nodded.

“Brett, Peter say hi.”

“Hey Mouse.”

Brett kicked Peter.

“Hey Nevada. You look, ah, different.”

She looked at him like he was an idiot. Which he was. It was hard not to like her in that moment.

A lot.

A lot more than I wanted to.

I didn’t just want to bone her brains out. I wanted to chill with her.

And that was a first.

“Thanks, I guess?”

Brett meanwhile was digging himself into a deeper hole.

“Yeah, you look hot. Like mega hot. Like scorching.”

She rolled her eyes at him. I was choking back a laugh. Life was about to get very interesting for little Miss Nevada Jones. She did not know what was about to hit her. She was in for a sex hurricane of epic proportions.

But not with any of these idiots.

With me.

“Yeah okay, we’re gonna go and get ice cream now.”

“Cool. There’s a party this weekend at the lake. Saturday. You should come.”

Nevada looked noncommittal. Her friend though, looked over the moon. This was something to remember. If you wanted to get to Nevada, you went through Frannie.

“Bye Nevvie. Bye Frannie.”

Her friend tittered as I waved at them coquettishly. I barely noticed. Like every other red blooded male in the vicinity, I was busy watching Nevada Jones walk away.

Chapter Twelve

Nevada

“He likes you! I know he likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s just like that.”

“Like what?”

I shrugged.

“He’s a player.”

“Maybe. But he likes you. Trust me.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t kick me out of bed. Then again, he probably would. Especially since I have no clue what the hell I’m doing.”

Frannie wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“Maybe he could teach you. Guys like that.”

“Um, no. I’m not about to give my V card to a manwhore. No matter how pretty he is.”

Frannie sighed dramatically.

“He is pretty, though. Admit it. You can’t have outgrown your crush that fast.”

I sighed, shrugging to act like I didn’t care. But I did care and we both knew it. She had me there.

“Maybe not. But still, it’s not going to happen.”

“Uh huh. Talk to me in September. Do you want sprinkles on your cone?”

I nodded. I loved coming to the Sweet Shop on Main street. We’d been coming here since we were kids. We more or less always got the same thing. Chocolate ice cream for her, and a vanilla softie cone for me. With chocolate sprinkles. Every time.

It was kind of predictable, I know. But it was also comforting. And cheap.

Frannie came from a wealthy family but she had her own problems. They just had nothing to do with money. Being a little on the heavy side, shy and completely left to her own devices at home had made her socially awkward to an extreme.

Add to this her crazy kinky hair, ‘the nest’ as she called it. She never even bothered to do anything with it. Not after a disastrous flat iron incident at the age of 13 which left her with a singed forehead and hair that broke off at different random lengths all over her head.

Of course, no one who saw her as ‘Freaky Frannie’ had any clue what a sweetheart she was. Or how smart. Or insightful. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

And I personally thought she was extremely pretty. She just didn’t think so. And so nobody else really noticed it.

My mother looked after both of us most weekends growing up. Fran was practically a sister to me. And she knew all about my school girl crush on Clayton. We used to spy on him with his friends by the pool.

She wasn’t going to drop it, I knew.

As much as I loved her, I wished she would shut up about it. I was confused enough as it was.

We got our cones and stepped out into the street. I was licking the side of my cone when I saw him. Clay was across the street with a group of people. A girl was hanging on his arm. But his eyes were on me.

On my mouth.

Oh. My. God.

He lifted his hand and rubbed it across his lip. I could tell what he was thinking. He was thinking about kissing me.

And more.

A lot more.

I had a sudden feeling that I was in deep trouble.

Because I was thinking the same thing he was.

Chapter Thirteen

Clay

I stared around the room at my father and Claire’s anniversary party. The event was to celebrate ten years of wedded bliss. As per usual with my father, it was a complete farce.

For one thing, they hardly ever touched each other. Except when someone was taking a photo. Then they inevitable moved towards each other slightly, and touched each others arms or something.