Page 13 of Hot Shot

When he heard I’m going to Spain to study photography, he offered to teach me Spanish, but I scoffed at that suggestion. Although I want to learn Spanish, I want nothing to do with Marco.

“No,” I admit. “Nothing starts until fall, and I leave in October, so there’s no point signing up. I started doing this free online course.”

“And how is that going?”

I shrug, holding up my tequila glass and swirling it. “Meh.”

“See,” he says. “Nice long legs.”

Once again, his tone of voice sounds sexier than if he was just talking about tequila. I swallow, then open my mouth slightly as I was taught to do when I sniff, searching out aromas and tastes, then sip and swallow. The heat traces down my throat and Marco gives me an expectant look.

“Burned honey,” I murmur. “Vanilla. Hints of leather.”

He smiles.

Dear God, he smiles. That smile is doing very strange things to my insides.

“Very good,” he murmurs. “You’ve been an excellent student. You know, my offer to teach you Spanish still stands.”

This time I don’t snort or insult his Spanish. This time I take another slow, thoughtful sip of the añejo. I do want to learn more before I go to Spain, and the online course isn’t that great. But . . . Marco.

“We could start tonight,” he adds.

“Stop flirting with me.”

His eyes flicker, almost as if I slapped him. And dammit, I feel a twinge of remorse.

“I know you don’t mean it,” I say. “I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

He blinks slowly. Once. Twice. “Making fun of you?”

I bend my head. I’ve never gotten over those old feelings of insecurity, the way I burned inside hearing kids laugh at me because I walked into a locker door or tripped over my own huge feet. But I sure as hell don’t want to share all that with Marco.

“I’m hardly making fun of you.” He moves closer so he can speak right into my ear in a low tone of voice. “More like making a fool of myself, thinking someone like you would ever be interested in me.”

My head shoots up and I stare into his eyes. For a long moment we don’t move. A connection spins between us, twirling strands of understanding and attraction as we search each other’s expressions, me looking for any sign of mockery or insincerity and seeing none. But it doesn’t make sense that gorgeous, confident, sexy Marco feels . . . what? As insecure as I do?

4

MARCO

“You arenotinterested in me.”

I tip my head to one side at Carrie’s words. We’re so close to each other I can smell her, an ethereal vanilla-musk scent. We have to be that close because of the loud music, otherwise we’d be shouting at each other, and these aren’t things we want to shout. I breathe in the fragrance, my nose touching her hair, and I think her body quivers.

Dancing with her, having my hands on her body, her attention focused on me, made me drunk before I even tasted my beer or tequila.

“You hate me,” she continues, her head bent, her hair falling over face.

“Um, no, belleza,youhateme. I’ve just never been able to figure out why.” Sure, I have my insecurities, but even so, I’ve never done anything to make her hate me. At least I don’t think I have. I assumed her dislike of me was her looking down her cute little nose at me. But she thinks I was making fun of her? How fucked up is that?

She tucks some hair behind her ear and straightens. I can almost see the walls coming up. “I don’t hate you,” she says dismissively. “I tolerate you.”

“Ouch.” It’s a slap in the face, except I know she’s lying. She’s protecting herself. And that make me intensely curious, wanting to know more about her, to know what’s behind those walls . . . behind that beautiful face and tight body she shows the world. Literally. Because I know walls. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not interested in you.”

I register the tiniest flicker of her eyes, but she keeps her face carefully composed.

“I don’t do relationships,” I continue. “And even though there’s some kind of heat between us, it would be a definite mistake for us to hook up, considering our best friends are getting married and we’re going to be forced to see each other. So just put your pretty little head at ease and forget that.”

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