Page 24 of Bad Boy Neighbor

“Airports are the best.” Oliver appears relaxed, taking a sip from his straw while eyeing the same man and his dog. He pulls out some fancy blanket for his King Charles Cavalier to lay on. It’s also pink, has diamantes sewn along the edges, and embroidery that says ‘Lady Eloise.’ “You ever just sit and wonder where that person is heading?”

“Yes.” I smile, the feeling so familiar. “I don’t get to travel much, but when I get the chance, I could just sit in an airport for hours.”

“So why don’t you travel? Money?”

I’m a little taken aback by his forwardness, but considering he saw me empty my stomach into a random bush, we’re beyond that level of friendship. Talking about money is something my parents enjoy doing, but not me.

“I traveled with my parents and sisters. We did Europe, though my family’s idea of traveling is five-star hotels and dinners with the consulates.”

“So, you want to do it rough?”

“Excuse me?”

“Travel? Trek through the world with a backpack, I mean.”

“Oh, yes. It would be nice,” I reply wistfully.

He bursts out laughing. “Sweetheart, I’ve done the backpacking, and it’s anything but nice. You share a shower with strangers, sleep in bunk beds, your clothes stink for days, and if you’re lucky, you don’t end up broke with some hooker running off with your belongings.”

I scrunch up my face, unable to contain my amusement. “A hooker ran off with your belongings?”

“Not me.” He laughs again. “A mate of mine when we backpacked through Europe. Let’s just say, a girl he picked up at the bar wasn’t quite a girl if you know what I mean.”

“No way!” I blurt out, covering my mouth to control my laughter. “You hear about these things, but you never actually hear of it happening to anyone you know.”

He nods, still grinning. “It was quite a loud scream to wake up to. And I’ve never heard a bloke scream like a girl.”

I twirl my straw around. “Lucky it wasn’t you.”

“I wouldn’t just bring a random woman back, especially in a foreign, non-English-speaking country,” he affirmed rather confidently. “Sex is great, but it’s even better when you’ve built it up in your mind.”

The linger of his words heats beneath my skin.

I blame the warm air or the run.

No, it can’t be anything else.

Oliver is an arrogantly good-looking man who just turned you on.

“Interesting perspective,” I say, unsure of where to go from here.

“So, the boys back home are what?”

“The boys back home?” I’m not following until he stares at me, waiting for a response. “They’re not backpackers, that’s for sure. They’re more into stocks and bonds. Political race. You know, that world?”

“So, hookers and crack?”

“That’s a bit far-fetched,” I argue, taken aback. “Just because you have money doesn’t mean you’re into hookers and crack. Why would they pay someone when they can get it for free?”

“And what if they can’t get it for free? What if the person they’re desperate for has taken off to go find herself?”

Where is he going with this? His honesty is confronting, treating me like I’m his closest friend when, in fact, he is still a stranger to me. I feel compelled to defend myself and the life back home in which he has no understanding of.

“Nicholas is not like that. He understands I need this.”

Oliver leans forward, his eyes demanding I bring myself closer. Without thinking, my elbows etch forward. We’re inches apart, close enough for me to see the small freckles scattered on the bridge of his nose.

“Sweetheart, if you were mine, I wouldn’t let you walk away and demand a break,” he whispers, the sweetness of his breath lingering.

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