Crossing the Line(4)

I saw hurt flicker in her big, brown eyes. Good. The faster she left, the better. So I drove the boot in harder.

"You want to slum it for a while, have a little holiday fun. String some poor dumb-arse tennis rookie along before giving him a severe case of blue-balls."

I deliberately turned my back on her. "Maybe the Aussie accent fooled you into thinking I'm that dumb-arse? But sorry, kid, you're definitely a girl and I only fool around with women."

I hated myself for treating someone I'd only just met like this. Mia whoever-she-was didn't deserve it, but the blackness was crowding in and I needed to escape.

Spying steps leading onto the lower level, I headed in that direction.

"My mom died when I was little. My dad drives a Mustang, drinks scotch and doesn't have to kiss anyone's ass."

I heard the hitch in her soft voice and it slayed me more than her admissions.

"Sure, I play piss-poor tennis, if that means I play badly. So I guess one out of four ain't bad." I heard the snap of her fingers. "Oh, and you were right about one thing. You're definitely a dumbass."

I should’ve kept walking. Headed straight for those steps without looking back. But the fact I'd misjudged her so badly stung real bad. Hadn't I busted that dickhead's nose in Sydney because he'd misjudged my mum? And me?

I'd put up with being misjudged my entire life: the poor kid from the Cross whose mum ran a strip joint. The kid who was probably a pimp. The kid who must do drugs because of where he lived.

I'd copped it all and hated every minute of it.

So why the hell had I just done the same to a woman I barely knew and who didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my foul mood?

I stopped and turned back to face her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She waved away my apology. "You can't help being a dumbass. You were born that way."

I smiled. For the first time in a long time. "You're probably right."

"So what's with the mood?" She tilted her head to one side, studying me. "Because I know that wasn't all about me."

I shook my head. "You don't want to know."

"Maybe I do …" She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her eyes, before she straightened her shoulders. "You were right about one thing. I am in college. And I am on spring break." She puffed out a long breath. "This is my first night back home and I had to attend this stupid party, when it's the last thing I felt like doing, so I guess that makes us kindred spirits in a way."

"You don't know the first thing about me—"

"Chill." She rolled her eyes. "All I meant was you look like you don't want to be here. I definitely don't want to be here." She gestured at the tennis courts. "So why don't we ditch this lame-ass party and take a walk out there?"

She'd articulated my plan, with one flaw. I still wanted to be alone.

"I don't think so—"

"Shut up." She slipped her hand into mine before I could blink. "Let's go."

She tugged on my hand as I stared at our linked hands in disbelief. I had two options. Yank my hand free, make a big deal of this by stomping away and run the risk of her running to her daddy, who was probably besties with Dirk Cresswell. Or suck it up and leave like I'd intended. With a hanger-on.

"If we don't make a run for it now, the rest of the party will spill out here soon and then we'll be trapped."

I frowned, nodded. "Fine."

Though it wasn't, because as I allowed Mia to lead me down the steps, I wondered why I was still holding her hand. And enjoying it.





Chapter 3




MIA





I was in way over my head with this one.

The guys I dated in college were … sedate. Soft-spoken, laid-back guys who talked football and basketball and grades. Guys who were polite and refined. Guys who would play along with goofy crap like what I'd planned.

Guys the antithesis of Kye.

Oh. My. God. Dani had been right. Sex god.

Pity about the attitude.

I didn't go for surly bad boys. Rudeness annoyed me.

But I'd started down this track tonight and if there was one thing I always did, it was finish what I started.

Somehow, my plan had changed between the time I'd left Dani and the time I'd met Kye. Had to have been all of ten seconds from the time he'd stepped out onto the terrace and I'd introduced myself, but I'd known then he was more than a stooge to help me pull off a lame stunt.

There'd been something behind his glower … a hint of vulnerability behind the sneer that made me wonder what a guy like him was doing here. He obviously didn't fit in and I knew the feeling.

As for his sexy Aussie accent? Yeah, that probably had something to do with the fact why I was still hanging around. If only I could encourage him to talk more.