Beautiful Distraction(20)

The invitation’s there. Unspoken but obvious.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I mutter, and then I head outside to grab my bags, my body hot against the chilly wind. At least, the rain has stopped.





CHAPTER SIX





Don’t ever let your guard down with a guy like him, unless you don’t mind him dirty-talking his way into your panties.

I toss my pen on the bed, pondering if I should mention the jerk in my diary.

Because that’s exactly what he’s been so far, and he’s proved it on numerous occasions.

As I heaved my suitcase up the stairs, Kellan just stood there, watching me from the door with a smug grin. Even though he kept quiet for a change, I knew he was checking me out, his eyes as dark and hooded as the night we first met. I walked past holding my head high, making sure not to touch him, even though I could feel him with every inch of my body.

My skin is still prickling from his gaze.

God, I can’t get his name out of my head: Kellan, Kellan, Kellan—

He’s in every thought. He’s officially occupied my entire brain space, and I don’t even know him.

A knock sounds at my door. I sit up straight and push the diary under my pillow just before the door opens and Mandy’s head pops in.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I tuck my legs under me as I watch her close the door and then settle on my bed.

The quizzical look from before is still etched on her face. “You okay?”

“I’m tired,” I say, fighting the urge to ask where Kellan’s gone. This is the right time to talk about him, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in the light of day he won’t look so damn hot and this stupid attraction will be gone.

“We should get some rest. It’s been a long day. Kellan’s invited us to stay the night,” Mandy says, wriggling her brows meaningfully.

I doubt ‘invited’ is the right word. He probably felt he couldn’t possibly throw us out, in case we wouldn’t make it through the night and he’d have to live with his conscience forever. Or maybe his big ego can’t take rejection and he’s still harboring the strange notion that I will bed him if he’s being obnoxious about it hard enough. But instead of sharing my thoughts with her, I just nod. “Where are you sleeping?” I ask, ready to change the subject.

Mandy motions for me to follow her and leads us down the hall to a closed door. “The bathroom’s in here,” she says, as though she’s the host and I’m her visitor. “I’m next door.” She points to the adjacent door and opens it. Inside, I can see that her suitcase is already waiting to be unpacked.

He must have shown her to her room and helped her with the luggage.

The thought stings even though there’s no surprise there. She’s hot; she’s confident and a hell of a lot of fun. The word ‘rejection’ doesn’t feature in Mandy’s dictionary, and I doubt Kellan’s going to be the exception to the rule. He’ll see that he’s been going for the wrong friend in no time.

Which makes my blatant physical attraction to him all the more annoying.

“He’s making us dinner,” Mandy says casually as she unzips her bag.

“Swell,” I mutter. “Can he also make us wine?” Preferably a whole keg so I can drink myself to sleep and don’t have to think about him anymore.

“I don’t think grapes grow in Montana. The weather’s not ideal.”

I shoot Mandy a sideways glance.

“Oh,” she says. “You weren’t serious.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Come on, the hot guy’s obviously into you. What’s up with the angry face?”

“The hot guy also has a girlfriend,” I retort and turn to take in Mandy’s room.

Just like mine, the décor is rustic yet simple with a low-roofed ceiling, fitted only with a rugged bed, night table, and a large, solid wooden cupboard. A few scarce pictures of birds adorn the otherwise empty walls.

“Honestly, I don’t know why we’re staying here,” I say. “We could just ask him to drive us to a hotel.”

“Because.” Mandy waves her hand.

“Because what?”

She shrugs. “It’s cozy here.”

And free, which she doesn’t add, and neither do I. We left home early and would arrive at the luxury hotel early, meaning we’d have to pay for the extra days.

“It is,” I agree as my gaze sweeps over the room one more time. Simple and cozy—such a strong contrast to the red Lamborghini and the expensive clothes. I sigh and turn around to regard her. “But we’re imposing. Give me another reason why we shouldn’t leave.”