Page 380 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I swallow.He loves a photo of me?
A rush of heat flies through my body, reaching all the way out to my fingertips and down to my toes. Logically, I know it’s only a surge of adrenaline and norepinephrine that’s making my skin feel tingly and hot. It’s hormones, not logic, and I shouldn’t let it influence my thoughts.
But the guy saved a photo of me on his phone. He likes the way I look enough to save it and add it to hisfavorites.
“Thank you,” I say softly. I breathe in, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my words tremble. “It’s okay that you saved it.”
He lifts his brows, his eyes flashing with something that almost looks like hope, which shouldn’t surprise me. Flint told me he was interested.
Or, hesort oftold me. He told me that wanting to kiss me wasn’t fake. Now that I really think about it, those two things aren’t necessarily the same thing. He could absolutely want to kiss me without wanting to have a real relationship. But that doesn’t feel quite right either. Flint doesn’t really come across as the kind of guy who is into meaningless flings. I could be wrong—but I would be surprised if I am.
We park the truck in an overnight lot in front of the airport where Flint’s brothers will pick it up later. Before climbing out, Flint puts on a baseball cap, then pulls his hoodie upoverthe hat. He slides on a pair of sunglasses to complete the look.
I’ve got to hand it to him. If I didn’t know it was him, I might not recognize him. But then, I’m probably not the best judge since a month ago, I didn’t even know who he was.
He pulls my suitcases out of the truck, as well as one of his own, and I begin to wonder how we’re ever going to get all of this inside. But before I can even ask the question out loud, Nate appears with a luggage cart.
“Thanks, man,” Flint says before helping Nate load everything up. He holds out his hand to me as we start to move, giving my fingers a quick squeeze as he laces his through mine. “Just trust me, okay? I’ll get us through everything.”
I nod, realizing that Idotrust him.
And I might be more scared of that than I am the paparazzi.
Chapter Twenty
Audrey
It’s the weirdest sensation.
Everyoneis looking at us.
Flint keeps my hand held tightly in his, and Nate is a mountainous shadow hovering a few steps ahead, so I don’t feel unsafe. But all the eyes—it’s the most disconcerting thing I’ve ever felt.
In line at security, Flint pulls me close. “Audrey, stop looking at people, all right?” His words are gentle, not at all like a scolding, but my cheeks flush with heat anyway, though that could just be from his warm breath skating across my ear. “If you make eye contact, it invites conversation. And it only takes one person to approach for the dam to break, and theneveryonewill approach us, and we’ll never make it to our gate.”
I nod. “Right. That makes sense. No eye contact.”
He wraps his arm around me and tugs me against his chest. His warm, solid, deliciously amazing chest. “Just keep looking at me,” he says into my hair.
Behind us, someone calls out his name. I flinch and start to turn—a force of habit—and Flint’s arm tightens around me.“Don’t look,” he whispers, and I relax back into him, slipping my arms around his waist so we’re facing each other. I press my forehead against his chest and let out a little groan. “It wasn’t even intentional. More like a reflex. How do you keep yourself from responding?”
“Lots of practice,” he says. “You’re doing an excellent job selling the girlfriend thing, by the way.” His hands cinch a little tighter around my waist.
“Am I?”
“Mmhmm. You’ve basically gotmeconvinced, and I already know you’re faking.”
There is something easy about standing like this in Flint’s arms, and I find myself feeling disappointed when I have to let go long enough to walk through the security scanner.
The TSA officer on the other side of the scanner asks for a photo with Flint and he graciously obliges, putting a loose arm around her shoulder and leaning in while her co-worker takes the shot.
As soon as he returns to me, he slips my hand into his, then lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss just above my knuckles.
And he thinksI’mgood at selling the girlfriend thing? I am putty in this man’s hands.
It’s almost time to board, so I expect us to go straight to the gate, but as we pass one of those frequent flyer private travel lounges, Flint and I veer off from Nate and Joni and duck inside. The lounge is mostly empty—maybe a benefit of the time of day?—and Flint immediately pulls back his hood and removes his sunglasses.
“Not in a rush to board?”
