Cruel & Beautiful Page 3
He throws back his head and offers me a hearty laugh.
Needing a quick recovery, I sputter, “I thought it only fair, since I was over served at the party and didn’t remember meeting you. I’m sure you had ample opportunity to check me out, so I figured I’d take my chance now.”
He dips his head and says, “I hope I don’t disappoint.”
“Not in the least.” I roll my lip under my teeth. If nothing else, I’m strongly considering a one-night stand. That’s definitely not my style but damn, he’s worth it.
He dampens a grin and I can tell it’s a struggle. “Well then, Ms. Forbes, are you ready to take your chances on dinner with me?” he asks as he offers me his arm.
“Indeed I am.” I grab the small purse with my phone and keys before taking his arm.
After I lock the door, we head off toward a Toyota 4-Runner. It’s not the newest model, but not an old one either. It’s extremely clean, unlike my unorganized and messy Honda Civic. Please don’t let Drew be a neat freak. If he is, he might end up hating me and ending this before we even have a beginning. Oddly, I have a feeling I might be disappointed if that’s the case.
“So, Jenna tells me you’re dual majoring in accounting and journalism.”
“That’s right. And what else did Jenna tell you about me?” I nudge him playfully.
“Don’t blame her. I pestered the hell out of her for days. She was pretty reticent at first until I just wore her out. I should warn you. I can be like that.”
“Oh, not one of those!” I feign shock. It has the desired effect; he laughs.
“Yeah. I had the greatest teacher. My mother.”
“Hmm. At least you’ve given me a heads up.”
“So?”
That one word has me laser focused on his lips. It takes me a second to blink back up to meet his eyes.
“Yeah. Dual major. At first I was solely business, but I wasn’t into it. Then I discovered accounting and love it. And I’ve always had a thing for writing so I figured maybe I could parlay the two into business journalism or work for a large corporation and do business writing. I don’t know yet.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” His smile is warm and I’m finding it easy to talk to him. I thought I might have to force conversation. Yet I’m vomiting words like I have the stomach flu.
“Or a half-ass one, like my dad says. He thinks I’ll end up with some menial job somewhere.” I laugh and shake my head, thinking about my family.
“Yeah, well parents can either be most resourceful or the biggest hindrance when it comes to this type of thing. You should follow your heart.”
I grin. Not many people see my logic when it comes to my majors. Tapping his arm, I say, “Thanks. That’s very nice to hear because even Jenna thinks I’m crazy. She gives me a hard time because I’m always studying.”
“It’s good to be driven, Cate. Not everyone is like that.”
I smooth my dress over my legs. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it driven. It’s sort of a must.” I explain the deal about my parents and my scholarships.
“Ah, I see. But that sort of makes you even more motivated. The way I see it, you could’ve taken the easy road and gone to school where they wanted you to. But instead, you chose Purdue, and are working hard to stay here. It’s your choice, right?”
“Well, yeah. When you put it that way, I guess so.” He makes me feel good about the fact that I have to study hard. Everyone else, including my best friend, gives me a hard time about it.
I look at his profile as he drives and see his lips curl into a smile. He’s nothing like I expected. What had I expected? Some older dude. And why? I don’t know. Seven years from now I’ll be his age. Will I consider myself old? I shake off the thought because I see how ridiculous I was being.
“What has you so quiet over there?” He glances over at me before returning his focus to the road.
“Honestly?” I should feel silly but I don’t. He seems good natured.
“Yeah.”
“A couple of things. One, you get why I have to spend so much time studying. Everyone else gives me crap about it. And two, I was thinking that twenty-seven isn’t exactly old.”
“Ah, so maybe not gramps then?” He looks at me and winks.
I shake my head. “I can’t believe Jenna told you that.”
“Don’t blame her. Like I said, I’m persuasive. I had to know why you were so opposed to going out with me. Then I thought it was funny. Old man McKnight here.”
It is comical when he says it like that.
“Well it was partly because I don’t date since I need to keep my grades up. So you and Ben are close?” I ask.
“Yeah. We’ve been close since kindergarten.”
“It is funny that we’re all from Charleston, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but it’s even funnier that you don’t remember our conversation about this,” he says, grinning.
My hands cover my face. “Oh lord. I’m so embarrassed about that. And sorry. I can’t believe how stupid I was, too. So, tell me what I missed.”
“Only that Ben and I have been friends since kindergarten, like you and Jenna.”
“That’s so crazy!” I slap my knees. It’s strange enough that Jenna and I, both Charlestonians, are here at Purdue. Most southerners never leave the south. Ever. Unless they have a very compelling reason to do so, such as marrying a millionaire, getting a job offer that pays millions, or you get the picture. And southerners rarely go to college at a northern school unless it’s for a degree in something that they cannot get at a southern school. But really? Is that even possible? So how did Jenna and I end up at Purdue? Because her brother Ben went here and LOVED it, and for four years that’s all we heard. So Jenna persuaded me to visit with her and, I must admit, I fell in love with it too.
“So, why have I never heard of you?”
He raises one hand. “No idea. Look what you’ve been missing all this time.” He laughs and there are his pearly whites.
No shit. I’m going to wring Jenna’s neck the first chance I get. And when I think about it, why hasn’t she been lusting after Drew all this time? She never talks about him. Never.
My stupid filterless mouth spews forth, “Why hasn’t Jenna ever mentioned you? Seriously, after all these years I would think I would’ve heard about you.”
His face turns the prettiest shade of pink. It goes all the way up to the tips of his ears.
“Well, our age differences might have something to do with it. Gramps, you know. Think about it. Ben and I were in high school when you and Jenna were in elementary or middle school.” And he winks. Then his expression turns somber. “But I was in a serious relationship until over two years ago.”
“Ahh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Now that makes sense, but I want to stay away from the rebounder.
“Yeah, I dated her in college and pretty much figured we’d get married, but she didn’t. She ended it during my third year in med school.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be honest here. I took it pretty bad. So, yeah, that’s probably why.”
“I see.” I do some calculations in my head. “So if it’s been way over two years, would that be considered a rebound?” Oh, shit. Did I just say that out loud?
“Rebound? You think I’m on the rebound?” He parks the car and I glance up to see the restaurant.
“I, uh,” I suck some air through my teeth, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that. I was calculating the time in my head.”
He swivels in his seat and nails me with his eyes. I’m pinned in place by those damn blues of his. They are really something. “I’m not on the rebound. I couldn’t even talk to a woman for months. Almost a year to be precise. Then I went out on a few dates, and stopped altogether. Just wasn’t ready. But eventually, I moved on. When I let it all go, I realized we weren’t a match. Our wants out of life were way off base. When that happened, things sort of fell into place. It’s been over two, almost three years since the
split and I’m happier now than I’ve ever been. So no. I’m not on the rebound, Cate.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to tell me all of that.”
“No, I didn’t.” He says it graciously. “It is strange though, us being from the same town, and never having met. Plus the fact that I’m best friends with your best friend’s brother makes it even weirder. It did require some sort of an explanation. I’m glad I told you. So, shall we go in and eat?”
“I think we shall.”
He walks around and opens my door, like a true gentleman.
“By the way, did I tell you how great you look tonight?” he asks.
“No.”
“My bad. You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” I glance down at my outfit, a black knit dress that skims my body. It isn’t special but it highlights my assets and I’ve always felt sort of pretty in it.
“I have to tell you something. That night I saw you at the party, all I could do was stare at you. After our little conversation, I decided to make it my goal to get you to go out with me. Thank you, Cate, for helping me out.”
“Helping you out?”
“Well, yeah. You helped me attain my goal,” he says as he waggles his brows.
“Um, do you have any other goals that involve me?” I ask. I don’t dare tell him I’ve already set some of my own. And they aren’t the kind I like to share.
“Yeah, but I can’t disclose those yet. Maybe later, after a glass or two of wine.”
I lean into him. “Hmm, you have me hanging in suspense, Drew.”
“It’s all good, Cate.”
Dinner is delicious. It’s the best Italian food I’ve ever had away from Charleston and New York City. Drew orders for us both because I can’t make up my mind. I finally tell him to surprise me. When the food arrives, there’s so much of it I laugh. I’m sure we’ll be bringing boxes of it home, but Drew eats like he has a bottomless pit for a stomach. I’m impressed.
“Where does it all go? To your toes?”
“Yeah. About that. I run a lot and lift weights so I’m always hungry.”
Now I really want to see his V. Maybe even lick and bite it. I’ve never seen one in real life. For that matter, I’ve only had pseudo sex once, and it was with that dickwad I used to date last year. He tried to repeatedly stab my vagina with his penis one night and it was so horrifying, I made him stop. He ended up calling me all kinds of awful names like cockblocker and frosty cunt, so I broke up with him while lying in my bed naked and sobbing. It was the most humiliating moment of my life. I still have nightmares over that incident. And dickwad—not even close to having a V. His abs bore a closer resemblance to a bowl of Jell-O. He was kind of cute in the looks department, but after his asshole move in the bedroom, every time I saw him after that, I swear he turned into a trollface. I still pray a horde of killer bees descends on his peen and stings the hell out of it. It’s no less than he deserves.
“What in the world are you thinking that has put that scowl on your face. I hope it’s not me?”
Good lord! “Oh, no!” My laugh is shaky. “It’s definitely not you. Actually, it’s nothing, really.” I rub my arms as I glance at the napkin on my lap. Why did I have to think about that dreadful night?
“Come on, Cate. You looked like an assassin from one of those Jason Bourne movies a few seconds ago.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. Spill it.” His grin is disarming.
“No. You’ll think I’m awful.” The last thing I’m going to do is tell him about dickwad.
“Only if it involved me,” he says.
“It didn’t but I can’t tell you. It’s of a highly personal nature.”
“Well, I hope to god I never put that look on your face.”
“I hope you don’t either. Let me just say it had to do with killer bees.”
“Killer bees. I’ll remember that. On another note, how about some killer dessert?”
As long as it has to do with your V, sure. “Okay. What are you having?”
“Their tiramisu is the best.”
“Wanna share?”
“Nope. I’m too greedy when it comes to sweets.”
“I love an honest man. Make it two then.” The waiter takes our order and when they are delivered, Drew was right. It is some kind of tasty. But I bet his V is better. Why am I being such a horn dog tonight? I’m on my second spoonful, and his dish is empty. His arm extends across the tiny square table and he dips his spoon into mine.
His dessert thievery makes me laugh. “Damn, you really are greedy.”
“Sorry. I’m surprised my teeth aren’t the size of giant Chicklets. I have an enormous sweet tooth.”
“Eat away.” Why am I flirting?
He waggles his brows again and says, “I’m hoping to.”
I nearly spit out the bite of tiramisu I’ve just taken. He turns a bit pink again, which I find most charming, and says, “Sorry. That was a bit inappropriate.”
I swallow to avoid choking, and reply, “No. I don’t mind inappropriate. You just caught me by surprise.” By the time I’m ready for another bite of my dessert, I find my dish is empty. He gives me a guilty look. And for some reason, I want to pinch his cheek and tell him it’s okay. How weird is that? I’m usually not a giggly, pinch the cheek kind of girl. Now that I think of it, I’m normally not a share my dessert kind of girl, either.
“I’m sorry I stole your tiramisu.”
“It’s okay. You did me a favor.”
“How’s that?”
“I didn’t need all those extra calories.”
“Oh, god, please tell me you’re not one of those?” He sits back and inspects me.
“One of what?” I’m truly baffled.
“The rabbit eaters. Girls who eat like rabbits.”
“No, I couldn’t survive without pizza. You can probably tell.”
“I can tell you look perfect to me.”
Uh huh. They all say that when they want to get in your pants.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, I believe you. But come on. Most guys are only interested in one thing.”
“True. But Cate, I’m not most guys.”
I laugh. “Now that’s an original line.”
“Shit. That was a bad one, wasn’t it?”
“Not the worst I’ve ever heard.” We both chuckle.
“So, Cate Forbes, are you up for going out for a drink with me?”
“Yeah. One question. Where do you live?”
That adorable smile reappears and he says, “Indy. But don’t worry. I booked a hotel room for the night. I was thinking we might be out late and I didn’t want to deal with the hour drive.”
That was sweet. “Where are you staying?”
“At the Union.”
“Cool. Then let’s hit it.”
We decide on a club called Chuckie’s. On the way, Drew leans toward me and asks, “Cate, since you’re not twenty-one, are you going to be able to get in the clubs?”
I wave my hand in the air. “No worries. I’m a resourceful college student. I have a fake ID.”
“I figured as much, since you were Jenna’s friend.”
When we arrive at Chuckie’s, we head straight for the bar. Drew orders us a couple of drinks—a vodka and soda for me and a vodka and tonic for him—and hunts for a place to hang out. He grabs my arm and leads me across the room to a small table close to the dance floor. “I’m surprised we found this.”
“I know. Score.” I fist bump him and then we clank our glasses. The music blares as people dance and I scan the room, checking to see if I recognize anyone.
I don’t spot anyone and focus on Drew’s gorgeous eyes instead. He stares at me like I’m interesting. It’s not a bit awkward. No one’s ever made me feel special before, but when he looks at me, that’s exactly how I feel. I grin, then sip my vodka and soda.
“If you keep watching me, I’ll think I have something stuck on my face.”
He fo
lds his arms and leans on the table to get closer to me. “I’m trying to be good and not kiss you like I want to here in front of everyone.”
“Maybe I want you to kiss me,” I say brazenly.
He’s about to call my bluff when the next thing I know, the waitress places two shots in front of us. Drew pays and I pick one up.
“Did you do this?”
The side of his mouth curves up in a sexy grin. “Guilty. I knew you liked vodka so I figured a couple of lemon drops might be fun.”
“I love lemon drops. Are you trying to get me drunk, Drew McKnight?”
“I’m trying real hard to get you, Cate Forbes, by any means possible.”
I don’t need vodka, because I’m drunk on him. He’s easy to be around and I’m so comfortable with him, as if we’ve known each other for years and not hours.
“Here’s to lemons, vodka, and um, drops!”
Drew’s wide grin has me grinning right back. Damn, the guy is just too gorgeous for my own good. Or is it for his own good? We clink our tiny shooters and drink them. It goes down far too easy. Then I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas comes on.
I fly out of my seat, feeling unabashed. Running to the dance floor like a loon, high on life and Drew, I start shaking it up. The alcohol has loosened me up and I decide to put on a little show. Drew sits and I dance just for him, swinging my hips and spinning around. I wobble a few times, but correct myself, giving Drew a thumbs up, showing him it was a move I did on purpose. He laughs, and gives me an air fist bump. When the song ends, I shake my hair and head back to our table.
“You’re quite the prancer, Cate.”
“Yeah, it’s one of my secret talents. You’re a lucky guy, Drew. Most people aren’t aware of this hidden ability.” I lean close to his ear and say, “I’m the stealth dancer.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“Yep. I have moves.”
“I’m sure you do, but I have to share something with you.”
“Yeah, what?”
“I have secret moves, too, Cate.”
“Ah, I bet you do.”
A slow song plays and Drew takes my wrist, spins me, and says, “Like now. How about a dance, twinkle toes?”
I’m out on the floor and in his arms before I can think about it. And it’s nice. No, it’s perfect. His arms hold me close, much closer than any average acquaintance. The fact is, I’d like to move my hand off his shoulder and tangle my fingers in his hair instead. He smells nice. Not too strong, but fresh and clean, and I’d like to tuck my face into the base of his neck and snuggle right here on the dance floor. My hand rests in his, but then he changes things. He shifts his so that our fingers lace. That tiny movement makes my stomach muscles clench, and I find that I desperately want him to kiss me. I lean back so I can look at him only to find him staring at me. There is no laughter on his face, only serious intent etched around his eyes. The song suddenly ends and we stand there, stuck in each other’s gazes as a faster paced one begins. Drew doesn’t speak, but leads me off the floor with his arm over my shoulder. When we get back to the table, he says, “Thank you for that dance, Cate.” He leans in and kisses my cheek.