Page 13 of A Little Tempting

“No,Dad, but thanks for your concern. Is the game starting soon?”

Everett shrugs as he looks around the crowded room. “Depends on Reeves. This was his idea.”

With a grin, Finley replies, “I knew I liked him. Now, run along. I’d really like to not be known as Everett’s little sister for the next four years.”

He tosses his arm over her shoulder and lifts his chin at one of his friends across the room like he hopes to do exactly that.

She elbows him in the ribs. “Ev!”

“Be good,” he warns, then his eyes find mine. “Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, shoo.”

Grumbling, he drops his arm from around her, then disappears through the crowd as Finley fusses with the bottom of her faux hawk. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.”

“You can’t ditch me,” I seethe. “What if Todd comes back?”

“You’ll be fine.” Wiggling her fingers back and forth, she calls, “I’ll be right back. Tootaloo!”

As she weaves through the crowd, I scowl at her retreating form, tossing back more of my drink.

“Someone’s thirsty,” a low voice notes.

I jump at the sound, and the last of my drink splashes onto a pair of very flashy sneakers.

The guy bounds back, hands raised. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry!” I rush out. “Shit, your shoes.”

“It’s fine.” His face is more of a snarl than anything else as he looks down at me. Something flashes in his eyes, though I can’t quite place what it is. He’s cute in a snooty, I’m hot, and I know it kind of way. Which is bad. Really bad. Because if he knows he’s cute, my body does, too. And if my body knows he’s cute? Well, this could turn really bad very quickly. His shoes will be the least of my worries if I don’t get out of here as soon as possible. I might try to run my fingers through his hair or spill what’s left of my drink all over him, or hell, maybe I’ll trip over my own feet and wind up with his dick in my face. Oh, wait. I already did that once this week.

My spine is a steel rod as I clear my throat and take a step back. “Okay, then. Bye.”

“Wait,” he orders. “You’re new.”

Get. Out. Of. Here.

I paste on a fake smile and turn to dart away, but he moves around me, blocking my escape.

“And pretty,” he adds.

“Pretty something,” I mutter under my breath as I stare at his stained shoes. Sucker shouldn’t have bought canvas. Poor guy. They’re most definitely ruined.

“Something?” the guy prods.

“I don’t…” My nose scrunches, and I look up at him. “I don’t know? What are we talking about?”

“What’s your name, new girl?”

“My friends call me Dylan, and my family calls me Dylan. Or Dyl sometimes. It depends on the situation, but, uh…yeah.”

“So your friends and family call you Dylan, but it isn’t your name?”

“No, it is,” I tell him. “My name’s Dylan.” Glancing around him, I search for Finley reappearing, but the brat is yet to be seen. “Did I not make it clear? Sorry, I’ll explain. My name’s Dylan Becca Thorne. Although I’m pretty traditional, so when I get married, I’ll probably take the guy’s last name, which feels weird, ya know? Because then I’m dropping my own last name. My parents told me they debated on not giving me a middle name so my last name could fill the spot once I get married, but I really like my middle name, so I’m not disappointed they wound up giving me one, you know?”

He blinks. Slowly. His jaw falls an inch, leaving his mouth gaping as he digests my word vomit.

I did it again. I made it awkward.

---