Page 372 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
But the woman I’m looking at now?
She looks different.
Still like me. But maybe a little more like the me who used to look at the oversized blazers everyone wore to school and think,what would I look like in one of those?
I think she’s been in there all along.
Maybe I just needed a nudge—or, you know, a free shopping spree in New York City—to wake her up again.
Still, the fashion isn’t really the problem, is it?
I’m not so shallow to think that a new wardrobe will turn me into a different person. And I’m mature enough to recognize that I don’t reallywanta relationship with someone who doesn’t like me for who I am—nerdy job, lack of social skills, and all.
But I’ve only been myself when interacting with Flint. I’ve beendressedlike myself. He doesn’t know a lot about my job, but he knows I was willing to sneak onto his property disguised as a bush.
Could he actually like me?
Or is this just part of the charade?
Either way, it shouldn’t matter. Flint is a movie star. I know what his life is, and I’m not supposed to like him back.
Which is troubling.
Because I definitely already do.
Chapter Eighteen
Flint
I’ve been waiting forAudrey for hours, anticipating her arrival, and I’m still not prepared to see her standing on my doorstep, looking like some kind of vision ripped directly out of my private fantasy.
The first time I saw Audrey outside the Feed ’n Seed, I noticed her—her eyes, in particular.
Then I actually met her and got to know her a little bit, and she only became more attractive. Even in her cargo pants and T-shirts, her hair swept back in practical ponytails, her face completely bare. I even thought she was cute when she was dressed up like a shrub.
But now?
I don’t know what to think. How to breathe.
I definitely don’t know how totalk.“Hi,” I croak out, my hand still gripping the front doorknob. “You look…Wow.”
I am a fumbling mess, and I don’t even care. Any man in this position would be.
Audrey lifts a hand to her hair, which is down, falling around her shoulders in loose waves, and runs her fingers through theglossy strands. Her eyes drop to the floor, like she’s nervous, or at least uncomfortable, and I do my best to rein in my reaction. The last thing I want to do is make her feel like new clothes and hair make her any more worthy of attention than she was before.
“That’s not to say…I mean, you always looked…”Oh man. Abort! Abort! This is not going well.“I just mean you look nice. That’s all.”
I finally step back from the door and gesture into the house. “Come on in.”
She follows me into the living room and drops her bag onto a chair. Her hands move to the skirt of her dress, smoothing it down, and I do my best to keep my eyes on her face and not her long, shapely legs. “It’s fine if you say something about how different I look,” she says, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “I looked in the mirror, Flint.” She looks down at her dress and holds her arms out to the side, lifting them just slightly. “It’s pretty drastic, right?”
I push my hands into my pockets. “You look beautiful,” I say. “Truly.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you have to,” she says.
“Why would I have to?”
She waves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to emphasize her point. “You know. The whole fake girlfriend thing. The charade. Telling me I’m beautiful—that’s what a boyfriend would say.”
