“Sorry, what was that?” Charity asked, stepping closer.
He turned his slightly-less-handsome-than-usual face toward her—attractive men were ruined for the moment in the face of Mr. Holy Crap He’s Creepy But Hawt. Donnie’s gaze took her in. “You clean up well.”
“Oh, um…” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She’d take that backhanded compliment, no problem. Hell, she’d frame it if she could. “Thanks.”
He nonchalantly returned to scanning the backyard.
“So, uh…you got an invite, too, huh?”
One of Donnie’s shoulders jerked up in a lopsided shrug. “I go to a lot of these things.”
“Right, yeah. No big deal.” She shrugged too, then grimaced at herself.
“Who’d you come with?”
“Sam. Samantha.” Charity stepped even closer, desperately trying to emulate Sam’s gracefulness. “You know Samantha Kent? I came with her. Earlier. She drove.”
“Oh, right.”
“Yeah. Right.” Charity clenched her jaw, then her whole body, to stop herself from saying or doing anything else embarrassing.
They both looked out at the pool, where the woman floated lazily in the middle, beckoning to an intense-looking, pretty man now standing at the edge. His fashionable clothes were firmly in place—it didn’t seem like he was keen on the idea of swimming. The skinny dipper’s friend stood close by his side, clearly happy with the decision she’d made.
“So…” Charity racked her brain for more conversation. Now that she could speak intelligibly around him, it struck her that she wasn’t sure what to say. He only talked a lot around other guys, and that was usually about sports. Charity knew next to nothing on that topic. “How long do you think you’re going to stay?”
“I dunno. All right, I’ll see you in a while.” He turned to her for a moment, showering her with his full attention. He smiled and squeezed her upper arm. “Find me later.”
Fireworks went off in her middle. She wrestled to control an elated smile dripping with doe-eyed devotion.
“Sure, yeah,” she said, trying to play it cool and refrain from squealing. “No problem.”
He pushed off the wall and sauntered back toward the house, draining the remnants of his glass and probably going for more. Charity checked her wrist, remembered she wasn’t wearing a watch, and debated.
She couldn’t very well go back inside right now because Donnie would think she was following him. Too clingy. But the only other person she knew at the party was Sam, who was also inside.
Charity took a few steps and glanced through the sliding glass door. Donnie stood at the counter, refilling his cup, as she’d suspected, surrounded by a few drinkers with serene expressions. The gorgeous models had drifted closer to the punch bowl, two of them clearly having worked up the courage and presence of mind to chat. No Sam.
That made things easy. Charity could kill some time by looking for Sam. Then she could force Sam to wander close to Donnie and hopefully go for Awkward Talk round two.
Decision made, Charity began to turn when the dark-haired man from earlier turned to look at her. Deep eyes shocked into her, devouring. Her skin tingled furiously as warmth spread through her middle. Thoughts of sticky sex and panting breath filled her mind.
She yanked her gaze away. “What is up with that guy?” she murmured, painfully aroused and a little freaked out by it. She didn’t understand the effect he had on her, nor did she understand the full-body itch warning her away from him.
Breathing heavily, she stumbled away. Was a quiet night of studying too much to ask?
She passed the pool and curved toward the front yard. A side door caught her attention, however, and she let herself in, figuring she’d give the greeter a break. She wandered through a stale room with no obvious personal effects, equipped with its own bathroom and sitting room. A guest suite larger than her house growing up. She shook her head as she surveyed the enormous TV mounted on the wall near the open door.
Lo and behold, Sam’s voice floated in on the scented air from the hallway!
“—I don’t know,” she was saying.
Charity ambled closer—the high heels were completely useless for walking. She heard another woman say, “I definitely think you have a shot with Donnie.”
Charity slowed.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” the stranger said. “I know him really well.”
“Are you sure about Devon, though?” Sam asked. “I’d much rather go for him.”
“He’s not even coming,” the other girl said. “He wasn’t invited.”
“Are you sure? I saw him down the road.”
“You did?” Silence filled a pause before someone tsked. “I don’t know. But regardless, I wouldn’t bother with Devon. I’ve never seen someone successfully land him. As soon as he bangs a girl, he completely loses interest. He’s notorious for it. I definitely think Donnie’s your best bet.”
A sigh wafted in to Charity, who was currently holding her breath, waiting for the verdict.