He moves his eyes up and down my body with that same craving, before he glances at my Nike Air Forces in one hand, then toward my high-top Reeboks in the other.
Without uttering a word, he points at the Reeboks, and I give him a grateful smile that seems to ignite a small spark of amusement in his green eyes.
I return to my room to bring back the Nikes, put on my Reeboks, then give myself one last glance in the mirror before I grab my bag and stroll back to the living room. He puts his coffee cup in the sink, then turns around with his hands pressed next to him on the counter.
“You want coffee?” he asks.
His annoyance from earlier has simmered down, and I’m greeted by a friendly face that warms my stomach.
“No, thanks.”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking at me like I’m an alien. “No coffee?”
“No coffee. Unless you want me to start talking as many words in a minute as Eminem raps? I didn’t think that was your jam, but if it is, fill me up,boss.”
A smile seems to want to crack through his straight face, but he holds it back.
“No coffee. Got it.” He finally gives me that smile that I remember from last year.
A smile that has my insides flying away, replaced by a million bugs buzzing in my tummy. But as quickly as it appears, as quickly it vanishes from his handsome face, it’s substituted by a serious look.
“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
I didn’t expect him to apologize for that, hardly familiar with the concept at this point except from my side, and it washes my shoulders with a lighthearted feeling.
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
“It’s not. But you gotta help me here, Kayla. We had fun last summer. I would be lying if I said I don’t think you’re attractive anymore.I do.”
Someone hook me up with some oxygen. I can’t breathe. Did he just admit he’s still attracted to me?
“But this is different from a hookup at a party. Let’s keep it professional,” he continues, pushing the giddy feeling he gave me far away.
There is that word again. Professional. I get why he’s hesitant.
Yeah, we had fun, but he doesn’t really know me. It still stings every time he brings up that word, though. As if he can’t possibly believe I’m able to keep thisprofessional. I can. I just don’t see why we have to keep it professional when we’re not at work.
A little disappointed, I offer him a coy smile, then place my phone on the counter while I take a seat on the stool.
“I know last summer you met me as this fun college girl, always interested in a party, and I know the recent turn of events in my life doesn’t help with that image. But I’m not stupid, Bodi.”
“I never said you were,” he interrupts with a genuine look in his eyes that radiates a heat through my chest as I keep going.
“I know this could be the only shot I get on a career in the publishing world. I’m not going to screw this up. I’m not going to waste my chance on a boy.”
He crosses his arms in front of his chest, a frown pushing his brows together.
“Aboy?”
I nod, slightly amused by his discontent.
“I think we both know I’m all man.” His voice is low and deep, the vibration almost palpable.
“No. No. No.” I lift a reprimanding finger. “You can’t say shit like that and not expect me to respond. If you want this to be professional, it goes both ways, McKay. No flirting. No sentences with double meanings, andnostaring at me like you’re about to eat me.”
He snorts, followed by a chuckle, keeping his gaze trained on mine.
“Okay.” He finally agrees, though reluctantly.