Slide(Boosted Hearts Book 3)(28)

Do not engage. Keep your mouth fucking shut.

“I just do.” He needed to change the subject. Now.

“From all your vast experience?” One of her brows lifted.

“You could say that.” Stop.

“Tell me, do they ask for it? Or do you simply have a knack for this kind of thing? Like a master chef knows when the seasoning is just right? Or a truly talented musician can play something by ear just by listening to a piece of music?”

The front she was showing him came across as unaffected, but he heard the undercurrent of anger in her voice, the judgment. She was right, of course. He’d been with a lot of women. He couldn’t change that. But he hated that she knew that about him, that she was judging him for it. His own anger reared its ugly head. “It comes naturally. And, baby girl, I know that pert little backside of yours is begging for it.”

The fake humor dropped from her expression. “I’m going to check out that jewelry stall. I’ll find you later.” She walked away, slipping through the crowd, and disappeared.

Adam cursed. What the hell was wrong with him?

His hunger had vanished completely and instead acid swirled in his gut. Knowing Lucy felt the same way about him as everyone else did hadn’t just pissed him off, it stung like a motherfucker.

But instead of walking away, of heading back to the hotel and giving her the space she obviously wanted, he trailed after her. Staying out of sight, but never allowing her to leave his.

Lucy suddenly wanted him at a distance. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to do the same.





Chapter Eight





What the hell was that? Lucy felt like a goddamn yo-yo. Did he still think that kind of shit would scare her away? Or was he just playing with her?

Teasing her then throwing other women in her face was not cool. Okay, yes, technically she’d brought up the other women, but she’d gotten so damn angry. She’d decided to throw away her ridiculous plan, that her and Adam weren’t going to happen and then…

Baby girl, I know that pert little backside of yours is begging for it.

A shiver moved through her. Gah!

She walked through the markets for a long time, trying to clear her head, and wound up at some kind of party. There were tables in the middle of the street. A space to dance. Flowers everywhere. The place was decked out in a luau theme, and best of all, there was a bar. She grabbed a beer, then a burger from the nearest food stall, and found a seat. She wasn’t in any hurry to go back to the room. Adam could be a miserable bastard on his own. She had no desire to look at those sexy frowning lips, those intense eyes—and definitely not that carved-from-stone six-pack that, if she’d been standing when he walked out of the bathroom, would have knocked her on her ass.

Nope. She wasn’t in a hurry to return to that torture. What she should do, though, was take the next bus back to LA, stop messing around, find a damn job, and chalk this lapse of judgment up to a case of temporary insanity. She finished her burger and bought another beer. The light buzz she had going was just what she needed.

Music started and everyone cheered, stood, and moved to surround the dance floor. Lucy got up to join them in time to see three gorgeous women walk into the middle. They had the whole hula skirt and coconut bra thing going on. They started to dance, hips swinging, rolling to the beat of the drums. They were fantastic and she found herself clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd.

The women started pulling people in to join them and when one of them took her hand, she thought what the hell, and moved into the middle with a few others. A lei was draped around her neck, she was grabbed by the hips, and one of the dancers showed her how to move. Lucy got the hang of it pretty quick, laughing and dancing. God, enjoying herself. When was the last time she laughed, really laughed? When had she last felt light and not weighed down by so much that sometimes she didn’t know how she got out of bed in the morning?

Refusing to think of any of that, she threw herself into it. Living in the moment.

That’s when she looked into the crowd and her eyes collided with a familiar pair of intense blue ones. Her heart did a little kick, knocking the breath from her lungs. Adam stood there like a statue while people partied up a storm around him, those eyes never leaving her. Not even when she caught him watching.

Her first reaction was to stop, but then she changed her mind. He was doing it again, giving off mixed signals. So instead of letting him get to her, or at least letting him see he was getting to her, she spun away and carried on dancing. If he wanted to watch, he could knock himself out. There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze—which she knew he’d just pretend hadn’t been there when the dance ended. Screw it. Maybe she should turn the tables on him? Be the one to do the teasing. To throw out mixed signals.