Page 45 of The Bad Girl List

“My friend does good work. Thomas has used her, too. Maybe we should get you high and then go to the tattoo shop. What do you think of that?”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this like it’s a school assignment.”

Tequila whines. I continue to draw, coloring furiously. The idea of Trevor helping me complete the Bad Girl List is laughable. Or it would be, if he wasn’t dead serious.

“If we do this, my family can’t get suspicious,” I say. “They love Oliver. That’s why I haven’t told them we broke up.”

“Just tell your family that you and Annika met me and Thomas at a bar and we invited you guys over. Simple. We don’t have to over complicate things.”

“Weren’t you the guy who just accused his father of hustling?”

He sighs, suddenly looking tired. “Am I coming on a little strong?”

“A little, yeah.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that, I like talking to you. I’d rather talk with you at Sunday dinner than some stranger my mom drums up. And if my parents think I’m seeing someone …” He trails off, staring at me.

I could fall into his dark eyes and drown. “If your parents think you’re seeing me, they won’t spring any more surprise blind dates on you at Sunday dinner,” I say. “And since I’m just here on vacation, you have a solid alibi of a long-distance relationship once I go back home to San Francisco.”

Trevor doesn’t answer right away. He rubs at his eyes, then reaches across the gap to rub Tequila’s head. I sense him drawing comfort from the dog. Tequila licks his hand and hops over to him and scrambles into his lap.

The two of them look so adorable that I immediately flip to a new page and start drawing. It might be embarrassing if he hadn’t already seen the other sketches I made of him, but by this point I figure it must practically be expected.

“I’m sorry if I’m coming off like a douche,” Trevor says at last. “I like you, Dom. I know we just met and the circumstances were a little … unconventional, but I feel like we get along. I mean, it’s not every girl you can look in the eye after dumping a bottle of wine on her, or after smashing glass into her skin.”

Or after she handled your dick like a five-year-old with a new Hot Rod. The thought makes me start to sweat again.

“We’ll keep it super casual and our families will never suspect a thing,” he says.

He still hasn’t mentioned number ten. This is why I’m feeling so off balance. I only just met Trevor, but I already know I like him way more than I should. I would jump at the chance to have him for my vacation fling. But he’s still in love with his dead fiancée, which is probably why he hasn’t mentioned number ten.

“Okay, last sales pitch, and if you still say no, I’ll drop it,” Trevor says. “Just think of this as an excuse to hang out and have fun on your vacation. And if we both benefit from it, what’s the harm? I’ll help you with the list, and you can help me keep my family off my back.”

It’s time for you to get out of your comfort zone, cuz. Annika’s voice surfaces in my mind. This vacation is all about figuring out who you are and what you want.

Trevor is certainly way outside of my comfort zone. For so many reasons.

What the hell? The guy has already seen me half naked, picked glass out of my skin, shown me his house, and shared his heartbreak with me. It feels like we’re already friends. Besides, having him help me with the list sounds fun.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Wait, what?” He sits up straight. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it. I’ll be your date tomorrow night and you’ll help me with the Bad Girl List.” I hold out my hand to make it official.

“Deal.” When he takes my hand and shakes it, I forget to breathe.

I love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I love the way it feels to fall into his dark-eyed gaze.

Neither of us lets go, our clasped hands hanging in the air between the chairs. The moment stretches on longer than it needs to. My pulse rate spikes, making me keenly aware of just how damp my panties have become in the last thirty seconds.

It’s too much. I break eye contact and withdraw my hand.

“What do you think?” I flip up the sketchbook, feeling reckless as I show him the charcoal drawing of him in his chair with Tequila on his lap. I feel almost as exposed as I did in the back of his brother’s Tesla.

“Is that me and Tequila?” Trevor plucks the sketchbook from my hand. “This is amazing, Dom. What did you do before you lost your job?”

“I worked for a design firm in the city.” Not the one who redesigned your family’s wine label. Nope, I know nothing about that.

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