Page 33 of Never With You
I grab my purse just to hide my smile. The last thing I want is for Nate’s ego to get a boost from me. It’s already big enough.
We walk to the elevator together and step inside. I push the button to the parking garage and step back. Nate pushes thesamebutton, provoking my annoyance, but I suck in a deep breath and let it slide.
He uses the elevator ride to check his phone, so I do the same.
No new messages from Mr. International. He’s probably busy at work. If only I knew what he did for a living.
The doors slide open, and I walk toward my car. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Why don’t we just go together?”
Lines slowly form across my forehead. “Youwantto go together?”
“Yeah, to save gas.”
“I’m not worried about the gas. I’ll just meet you there.”
“Come on.” Nate walks to his truck as if the decision has been made. “We need the truck for the boxes of t-shirts, hats, and beach towels already done.”
I glance around the parking garage while I debate if I want to be trapped in a twenty-minute car ride to Mesa with him for no reason when I can easily drive myself.
“Carly?” His voice startles me. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not sure why we need to go together,” I mumble as I trudge toward his truck.
I half expect his car to be a mess, just like his desk at work, but it’s shockingly pristine. I guess Goldfish crumbs and old boxes of Happy Meals don’t fit with a single man in his late twenties.
Once out of the dark parking garage, Nate reaches for his glasses in the console.
Ugh.
Of course he looks incredible in black-rimmed sunglasses. They somehow accentuate his strong jawline and perfectly angular nose. Casually, he rests his elbow against the door while the other hand steers. My eyes travel up his arm, tracking his masculine veins until they slip under his rolled sleeve. I can only imagine all the other manly things under that shirt. Biceps, triceps, and shoulders. Oh my!
“So this is what it feels like to get undressed by someone’s eyes.” His sideways smirk is entirely obnoxious and warranted.
My head turns, shielding my blush from his gaze just in case he can see it through his tinted lenses. “I’ll takethings that never happened, Alex, for $600.”
Nate’s laugh is textured with conceit, making everything worse.
“Please tell me you didn’t force me to come with you so that you could pretend I’m checking you out.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” Smugness ripples off him. “I knew you’d become one of my grade-A stalkers.”
“Ha!” I don’t bother toning down my sneer. “Oneof your stalkers?”
He turns, showcasing a blinding smile. “One ofmany.”
“I doubt it.” I look straight ahead to avoid his handsome face. “Women aren’t attracted to men who never grow up.”
“Sure they are,” he says with a charismatic smile that could ruin me.
I lean forward to turn the radio up. A heavy bass thumps through the car. “I hate rap.” I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. “If I have to suffer through a car ride with you, we’re at least going to listen to my music.”
“How unlike you to want to control everything.” His sarcasm is apparent. “What’s on the lineup? Mozart? Beethoven? Something that matches your old maid personality?”
“You’re hilarious.” I connect my phone to his Bluetooth and select mySomething for Everyoneplaylist that never misses—an eclectic range from The Beatles to Bob Marley to Queen and everything in between.
A Counting Crows song starts playing, and since Nate doesn’t comment, I assume he’s fine with my choice.
