Page 27 of What Is Love
I glanced at Wyatt. “You can call me Lottie.”
His brows rose. “Lottie the hottie, I like it.”
He was a flirt. It seemed playful, harmless, and helped ease the awkwardness of being the outsider.
“Your last name is Kendry, isn’t it?” Even though Reid phrased it like a question, I had a feeling he already knew the answer. So much for going somewhere no one would recognize me.
I wanted to ask him how he knew or why he was asking, but the unapproachable vibe he was putting off made me not care. “Yes.”
“Kendry? As intheKendrys?” Wyatt asked.
“What other Kendrys are there?” Reid asked caustically.
“Does my last name bother you?” I was stunned at the feeling of my own backbone. I knew I had one, but when I had to suppress it so often, I sometimes forgot it was there.
Reid gave me a look that told me he found my question ridiculous.
Wyatt leaned close and whispered loudly, “I don’t care what your last name is.”
“That’s because you want in her pants,” Reid grumbled.
Roe let out a curse as he shook his head.
Wyatt didn’t even look bothered by his friend’s accusation. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. No offense.” He winked at me. “But I meant what I said. Couldn’t care less whather last name is.” He stared across the booth at Reid. “What makes me curious is why you do.”
“I don’t,” Reid said, glancing at Roe. They stared at each other, and it felt like they were communicating silently again.
Roe eventually looked away and Reid’s whiskey eyes met mine. He was intimidating. Not in a terrifying way. In an intense way. It didn’t help that I found him attractive. All three of them were. But it was my attraction to him that I was disappointed in myself about. He seemed like an asshole. There were too many assholes in my life as it was. I would never offer time, thought, or energy to another asshole by choice.
“She’s the one who drew the motorcycle at Stewart’s,” Reid said, stunning me.
That still didn’t explain how he knew me. If anything, it created more questions.
“What?” Wyatt’s head whipped around to stare at me. “I mean, after seeing your drawing yesterday, that adds up. But how’d you find that out, Reid? The artist was listed as anonymous when we went there and voted on it.”
“When it won, the artist was revealed,” Reid explained. “And I know who bought it.”
“Who?” Roe asked before I could. I was curious to know as well. It was a personal piece. All my drawings were, but it was the first one I had ever sold.
“Are we ordering anything?” a female voice asked, capturing all of our attention and making us forget Reid hadn’t answered.
Standing next to our booth was a girl about my age with a small black apron around her waist. She had brown hair with caramel highlights. Her eyes were almost the same shade as Reid’s.
“We’ll get the usual, Mac,” Wyatt said.
The waitress, whose name I assumed was Mac, looked to me. I was about to say that I didn’t want anything when Roe said, “Just add an extra order of what I get for her.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said quickly.
“Yes, she does,” Roe told the waitress as he watched me.
She took him at his word and walked off.
“I didn’t want anything,” I insisted.
“You didn’t eat lunch. I know you’re hungry,” Roe argued.
I frowned. “How do you know that?”
