Imaginary Lines (New York Leopards 3)

For God’s sake. The only way I’d get her off my case was to distract her with something else. “Come meet my roommate Lucy. I think you’ll really like her.”

I’d just managed to pawn Shoshi off when Neil came up to me. “So you’re a reporter?”

I nodded. “I am. What about you? You’re also in theater?”

“Yeah. I actually just got cast in Hamlet.”

“That’s great!” Look at me, having a conversation with someone new. “What part?”

His smile widened. “Hamlet.”

“Oh. Awesome. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. So what do you cover?”

“Oh. Sports.”

“Oh.”

We nodded at each other.

Abe came over and dropped into the seat beside me, casually slinging his arm across the back of my chair. “Shoshi’s in a mood.” He glanced at Neil. “Hey.”

I rolled my eyes at his blatant proprietary tactic, but the meal had made me warm and fuzzy, and

I let it go.

We worked our way through the wine everyone had brought, until I reached for a bottle and nothing came out. I wobbled to my feet. “Be right back, guys.”

I headed into the kitchen to pull down a bottle of red from my shelf, and then discovered I was drunk and that meant corkscrews behaved incorrectly. I was staring at the cork in puzzlement when Abe entered the small space. “Need help?”

I did, desperately. I stepped back. “Yes, please.”

He set to work, after a quick laugh at how badly I’d mangled the cork. “That Neil’s kind of a tool, huh?”

I leaned against the counter and grinned. “You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He wears argyle socks.”

“I think argyle socks are cute. Besides. Why did you even notice that?”

He shrugged. “They were glaring.”

“You were looking for a reason not to like him.”

He left the wine and braced his hands against the counter on either side of me. He grinned wickedly, and my heart started fluttering at how stunning he looked, the light in his eyes, the line of his jaw, the perpetual thick messiness of his hair. “Maybe.”

Part of me knew I should tell him to stop if I wanted him to take my request of leave me be seriously, but most of me yearned toward him. “I’m trying to meet a prospective boyfriend at this party!”

He offered an easy grin. “Good thing I’m here.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Oh.” His nostrils flared gleefully. “Is that a challenge?”

“I can’t take you seriously.”

His brows flew up, and his voice lowered. “How’s this for serious?”