Page 82 of A Little Tempting

“Not an answer,” he murmurs. “Let me ask you this. What made your kiss with Cinderfella so special? Is it because you like the mystery? The chase? Is it why you keep me at arm’s length?”

“I don’t?—”

“Do you still think Everett’s your Cinderfella?”

With a quiet huff, I face him fully. “You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“Guess my mind’s been busy lately. Normally, I’d distract myself with a solid fuck, but since the girl I want is hung up on a guy who isn’t real?—”

“You’re saying I imagined the kiss at the costume party?” I counter.

“I’m saying you’ve built up unrealistic expectations for a guy you don’t know. No wonder he hasn’t come forward.”

“The night’s still young,” I whisper.

He leans back in his chair, putting much-needed space between us. “So youdothink Everett’s your Cinderfella, and this is his bullshit attempt at wooing you.”

“Wooing me?” I snort. “What are we? In the fifteenth century?”

“You’re the one who wants the fairytale.”

“I think Everett won the bet fair and square, thanks to you passing him the puck.”

“Never gonna let me live it down, are you?” He leans even closer and rubs his hands together. Not in some weird, villainous, muah-ha-ha type of way, but more like he’s intrigued. Really intrigued. By me.

“And,” I continue, ignoring his interruption, attempting to focus on our actual conversation instead of the way my stomach fills with butterflies anytime he even looks at me. “Since Everett’s my date for the evening, I should be polite and give him a real chance.”

“The color of your dress says otherwise.” His hot gaze slides down my body and snaps back to my face. “Told you aquamarine’s my favorite.”

“Happy coincidence,” I volley back at him.

He chuckles. “Sure, it is. Let’s say Ev isn’t your Cinderfella. What then?”

“Then, I have a laid-back evening with a friend.”

“A friend.” His expression sours. “Your group has always been pretty tight-knit. Makes it hard for newcomers to find a place.”

“Seems like you’re doing an okay job so far,” I point out.

“Depends on the circle. Getting close to you, however, feels like a bad visit to the dentist, thanks to your date for the evening.”

“Really? This again?”

“Just trying to piece together a few things.” He leans closer. “Like Everett’s obsession with you.”

I roll my eyes. “He likes looking out for me.”

“Why?”

“Because we have history.”

His gaze narrows as he pieces together a puzzle I didn’t realize I laid out for him.

“History you don’t want to share with me,” he concludes. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Dylan.”

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