The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood 3)

The original plan had been a small get-together. Just Cassidy, her boyfriend, and a few of her friends from high school. But there was serious overlap in friends between Cassidy and Dr. Lowe’s son Preston, and since it was his house too, the laid-back barbeque had grown into an all-out pool party.

Preston was an ass, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised he’d decided to co-opt Cassidy’s birthday celebration. When they’d been together, he alway had to be the center of attention, and that hadn’t changed when they’d broken up. She claimed he’d done a lot of growing up over the last year and was getting better about her dating his dad.

But I wasn’t convinced.

I surveyed the people, trying to remember names and who was dating who. I was older than everyone else—except for Greg—but he was smart enough to pretend he was too busy manning the grill to hang out with the folks in his pool who were considerably younger.

Preston, I knew, because I’d met him before. It was also easy to remember his friend Troy’s name. He sat at the edge of the shallow end, his feet dangling in the water, staying right on the cusp of joining in with everyone else.

Two weeks ago, he’d just been a guy trying to make it in the Music City, but last week he’d won an online competition, and now the whole town was buzzing about the pool boy who could be the next big thing.

Something caught his attention because he climbed out of the pool and hustled over to the grill. Horrible Judy Malinger’s house was on one side of Greg’s, but his neighbor on the other side had appeared and was deep in conversation with him. I’d met her once or twice before. She was the music agent, and likely Troy’s, judging by the way she smiled at him.

A guy plopped down on the end of the lounger, nearly sitting on my feet, but I drew them back just in time. Water dripped down his toned, tan chest, and he slicked his hair back out of his eyes, slinging droplets everywhere.

“Hey, there,” he said. “I’m Colin.”

He was probably my age or a few years younger, and cute, but judging by his wide grin, he knew it.

“Hi, Colin.” I gestured to myself. “Lilith. I’m Cassidy’s friend. We work together at—”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I asked Preston about you, like, a second after I got here.” He tucked a foot under himself, swiveling to face me, and his posture was carefree. His gaze swept over my body, taking in the white crocheted cover-up I wore, and I appreciated how he didn’t seem to be peering through the small holes to see what was beneath. “How come you’re not swimming?”

“I’m not hot enough to want to get in,” I lied.

His smile was cocksure. “Gonna have to disagree with you there.”

It was so over the top, I couldn’t help but laugh. Confidence was sexy, and this guy had it in spades. A few months ago, I probably would have eaten him up. But everything was different now. This cute boy couldn’t compare to the two men I was in a relationship with.

“Can I get you another drink?” He glanced at the can of Miller Lite beside me that I’d been nursing the last thirty minutes. Like Cassidy, I’d taken the day off from the clinic, but it was barely six o’clock on a Tuesday night, and it felt weird to be drinking so early. Plus, I assumed harder liquor was coming later tonight when we went out to the bars, so it was best to switch to water until then.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Colin wasn’t deterred. He wiped at the water dripping down his chest, and I wondered if it truly bothered him, or if he’d done it to call my attention to his muscles. “You going to Troy’s show on Saturday? He’s opening for Stella.”

“I heard, but I—”

“I’ve got an extra ticket if you want to go with me.”

I paused, lifted my eyebrows, and gave him a smile. “Straight to the point,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

He winked. “I figured you would.”

Oh, he was smooth, and I immediately began to catalogue my brain for my single friends. I wasn’t interested, but I didn’t want to see this guy go to waste. Someone could have fun with him.

I shot him a regretful look. “Thanks for the offer, but I have a boyfriend.”

He put his hand over his heart, acting like I’d mortally wounded him, and his tone was teasing. “Do you need another?”

It just came out of my mouth without thought. “No, I already have two. Three is a bit much, even for me.”

He blinked and evaluated if I was joking, and must have decided I was, because he laughed and shrugged.