Asking for Trouble(54)

She smiled into his chest. “Nope. Still wondering what we’re having for breakfast.” Laughter rumbled through him, but he waited for her real answer. She took a silent breath. “Yes. Although if you want to remind me that same way whenever possible, I’d appreciate it.”

…

Brent shoved yesterday’s clothes into his overnight bag, throwing another impatient glance at the door connecting his room to Hayden’s. Christ, she’d gone to shower and change a mere half hour ago and he already missed the sight of her. He’d rushed through his shower, hoping she’d do the same so they could spend the remaining hour before checkout together, but he’d emerged from the shower to find her door locked. He knew her game now and it only excited him. It was her turn to run the show. She wanted to frustrate him, make him wait. Perhaps she’d wait until they had ten minutes to go before coming to him so he’d have to take her quickly. Frantically.

He stared hard at the door, contemplating the idea of knocking. Saying something dirty to her through the barrier, giving her no choice but to open it. She’d be soft and fragrant from her shower. Her scent still lingered in the room, but he needed it up close. He didn’t have a name for her scent. Expensive, appetizing, light, tempting.

Shit. Why don’t you just grab some hotel stationery and write a quick haiku, Romeo? Ode to Hayden’s body. While his fevered thoughts regarding her body could easily take up eight hotel notepads, he could completely double that on Hayden the sensual flirt. Hayden the rumpled jokester. Hayden the girl who carried around hidden pain, locking it up so tight she rarely allowed anyone a glimpse. She’d given him a brief glance last night on the boardwalk and now he wanted more. To learn every part of her. Find out more about what made her tick.

Furthermore, Brent wanted to show her the parts of himself he normally kept hidden under his loud, abrasive personality. The one he showed the world, but didn’t necessarily sum him up. He wanted her to see more. Wanted to show her more.

To his relief, she’d agreed in her own roundabout way to give him that chance. All right, his methods for gaining her agreement hadn’t exactly been fair, but when had they ever fought fair? He and Hayden did things their own unusual way and he wouldn’t change it for anything. They’d have bumps along the way to finding out where this relationship would go, but dammit if he didn’t look forward to arguing. And hell…making up? He got hard just thinking about it.

His cell phone rang beside him on the bed. His sister Lucy’s picture popped up on the screen and he shivered in horror at having a hard-on at the same time. He shook his head to dispel thoughts of an angry yet turned-on Hayden from his mind and answered the phone.

“Luce. What’s wrong? You need bail money again?”

“Funny. You should take your act on the road.” He couldn’t help but smile at her sarcastic response. His sister looked and acted like a sorority girl, but she was hell on wheels. Yet underneath her strawberry curls, so like their mother’s, lurked a closet brainiac. Her intelligence motivated him to work twice as many hours. What was a couple extra hours in a greasy garage when his little sister might take her college education and change the world someday? If she didn’t get herself killed skydiving or speeding on her moped first. “Besides, that one time was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know bonfires weren’t allowed on campus. There should be clearly marked signs.”

“That say what? ‘Use your common sense’?”

She snorted. “All right, I’m going to let you get away with that one. I’m too happy with you today to take issue with your stuffy tone.”

He glanced back at the connecting door. What the hell was taking Hayden so long? “Happy with me?”

“Of course! How come you didn’t tell me you were applying for tuition grants? I would have helped fill out paperwork. Who knew I was even eligible for one?”

Brent felt a sense of foreboding settle in his stomach. His sixth sense kicked into high gear. This was somehow bad news. He just knew it. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. What grant are you talking about? Who told you the tuition had been paid?”

“The bursar called me. They received funds for the remainder of my tuition from the…” She trailed off and he heard some papers rustling in the background. “The Winstead Foundation.”

His hand tightened on the phone until he heard the plastic creak in his fist. When he spoke, the words felt like they were being strangled from his throat. “Did they say anything else?”

“Nope. Just that I’d been personally selected by the head of the foundation. Some rich person named Hayden Winstead. I’m not even sure if that’s a man or a woman’s name. What do you think?”