I Just Want You(25)

My stomach growls again. "Great, actually. I love pizza."

He looks down at me with a boyish grin. "Me too."

I watch as he walks around turning off lights. Suddenly we're in complete darkness except for the glow of the exit signs.

"Berklee." His deep voice echoes in the darkness.

Before I can answer I feel his hand on the small of my back. The heat from his palm seeps through my thin shirt.

"Careful," he whispers next to my ear. My body shivers and I know he feels it. I don't say anything; I can't without my voice betraying me. Instead I walk slowly with him leading me to the door. Once we're outside under the gentle glow of the streetlights, I step away from him. From his heat.

Distance. I need distance.

"Let me get that," he says, reaching around me and opening the truck door.

"Thank you," I whisper, afraid my voice will betray me. I take a big breath as Crew climbs behind the wheel. I slowly exhale and try to relax against the seat. Looking over, I see his fingers gripped tight on the wheel.

He catches me looking. "Pizza." He winks and puts the truck in Drive.

"So, why a club?" I ask, trying to break the silence and distract myself from my racing heart. Surely he can hear it.

"I wanted to invest in something, something I could be proud of. I inherited . . . some money from my grandmother, and I wanted to put it to good use."

"I admire that. So many would blow through it, or gamble it away."

"I didn't go to college. School was never my thing. I was working a job living paycheck to paycheck, and when I found out about the money, I just . . . wanted something for me, you know?"




 

 

"I do, actually," I tell him. "I graduated four months ago and I've been hitting road block after road block while job hunting. Everyone wants experience, more than just internships, and well, as you know, I have none."

"How did they expect you to get it?"

I laugh. "Right? That's my complaint. I appreciate you and Zane giving me this chance. I won't let you down."

He nods. "So, you and Zane know each other?"

Haven't we been through this? "Yeah, causally. Like I said, it won't be an issue. There has never been anything between us."

"Right, your boyfriend would kick his ass," he remarks.

"Yeah, you kind of need one of those for that to happen," I say. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds like "idiots." I can tell just from the sound of his voice that he's being nosey. Two can play that game. "What does your girlfriend think about you opening a club?" I ask.

He chuckles. "You kind of need one of those for that to happen." He pulls up to the pizza place. "Best in town," he says with a boyish grin, then climbs out of the truck, me following quickly behind.

The smell of warm melted cheese and sauce greets us at the door. My stomach again growls.

"Let's get you fed," Crew says from behind me, his lips next to my ear.

Damn! Does he not realize what that does to me? What him being that close does to me? Of course he does-he's one of those. You know, the type that knows he's damn sexy and isn't afraid to show it.

Crew leads us to a booth in the back.

"Hi, I'm Alice, and I'll be your server. Can I start you off with drinks, maybe some breadsticks?"

"Sweet tea," Crew says, then points at me.

"I'll have sweet tea as well."

"Breadsticks?" he asks.

I grin. "Only if you add cheese."

"Breadsticks with cheese and an extra side of sauce."

"Man after my own heart. The more sauce you dip them in the better." I chuckle as Alice walks away.

"So, why business?" he asks.

"I guess since I already have the job, I don't have to worry about being fired if I answer this question the wrong way?"

"Berklee." His deep voice is scolding. "The job is yours, and the only answer is the honest one."

The waitress delivers our drinks and I take a sip. "I'm one of those weird people. I love organizing and problem solving. I also enjoy paperwork."

He raises his eyebrow in question.

"Really. I never minded writing papers in college. Homework in general didn't bother me. I think it's my organizational trait. My mom has it too." 

Before he can ask another question, a basketful of cheesy carb heaven is delivered to our table. "Are you ready to order?" the waitress asks.

"I like it all," I tell Crew.

"Meat lover's?" he asks me.

"Sure."

"Large," he says, handing over his menu. I do the same.

Grabbing a plate, I add a breadstick with some sauce. I take a bite and close my eyes, savoring it.

"So good," I murmur. Crew clears his throat and my eyes pop open. His are trained on me. "So, uh, the interviews went well today."