Page 117 of Matteo
“Bluish gray with red trim?” The chatter faded away while the two of us remained standing still. I took both her arms and shook her gently. “Hannah, what’s going on? I don’t like all these secrets.”
The hypocrisy didn’t escape me.
She reached for her discarded summer dress, then slid it on.
“Everything’s okay,” she assured me, flashing me a smile. “Hey, girls,” she called out. “Uncle Kyran is here and needs me. Can you all finish this up?”
“Why is Uncle—” My words trailed off and my brow furrowed at the realization. She’d refused to call himUncle Kyranfor as long as I could remember.
But before I could form my thoughts, she was already gone and I was left staring at taillights.
An hour later, I sat on the stone wall watching my girls continue downing shots while I sipped on water. Hannah still hadn’t returned, and although I was worried, she’d texted me thirty minutes ago not to expect her back and that everything was fine.
I had no idea what that meant, but I took comfort in the knowledge that Uncle Kyran wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
I had completely forgotten about the guy who’d been entertaining me with stories I was only half listening to. His ruffled blond hair and clear blue eyes held no ruthlessness, only curiosity.
He still wore swim shorts, his tanned chest exposed and inviting admiration. Despite the fact that my pulse didn’t skip nor did anything about his smile make my heart race, I gawked at his muscular abs. Unfortunately, it was to compare every ridge of those abs to another set that I’d kissed and touched only weeks ago.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I finally answered, the words slightly bitter on my tongue.
I slid off the wall and he mirrored my move, leaving us standing close. He was nowhere near as tall as Matteo, but he was pleasing enough. With hesitant steps, I closed the distance between us and put my hand on his chest.
Not even a blip, I thought, willing my heart to get excited. It didn’t.
“Do you work out?” I asked.
“Three times a week.”
“It shows,” I observed.
“You’re stunning,” he said, eyeing my body unabashedly. “And your voice is so beautiful. Are you a singer?”
An amused laugh left me. “I’ve barely spoken a word. Where did you come up withthat?”
He flashed me a smile filled with charm.
“I get goose bumps whenever you speak.”
I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed so hard, tears brimmed the corner of my eyes. He watched me with an easy smile.
“How many times have you used that line?” I mused.
“Never,” he vowed, but the twitch of his grin told me otherwise.
“What’s your name again?” I asked, although he’d told me several times already.
“Brian.”
“Well, Brian. How many times did that line actually work?” I asked, amused and slightly curious.
He chuckled awkwardly. “You really want to know?”
“I really do.”
He leaned in, his sunscreen scent invading my senses. His breath brushed against my earlobe. “I’ve?—”
