Page 18 of Blue Line

I let out a bark of laughter. “How do you know?”

“I just do.” He says it so seriously that part of me believes him.

“Thank you for tonight,” I say once we’re done with our treats.

“No problem.” He pushes the chair back, standing as he gathers our garbage before putting a hand out to me. “And I mean it, don’t let what that asshole and his mother said stop you from pursuing your dreams.” I nod. “Ready to go home? The night’s still young. We could do something else.”

“Can’t get enough of me, can you, Weston James?”

“Not my middle name, Hadley Jane.” He opens the car door for me. “Thought we could hang out more.” He leans in and buckles my seatbelt.

I can’t help the shiver that racks my body when his hand guides the belt into place. He pulls back, a wicked grin on his face, and I roll my eyes. He winks at me before shutting the door, and I have to take deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

What the hell has gotten into me?

“How about we get a drink?” I ask, pulling out my phone again when he’s in the driver’s seat.

“Sure.”

I find a pub a few blocks away, and Weston starts driving. I peer out the window, my mind going back over the interactions of the past hour. I dodged a bullet breaking up with Henry.

It’s not until we’re sitting in a booth at the back of the quiet bar, a beer in front of each of us, that I speak again.

“Thank you for defending me.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, focusing my attention everywhere but at Weston.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispers, putting a hand on my arm. “Please.” The way he utters that one word has me meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for defending you. Ever.”

“Okay.”

He withdraws his hand and picks up his beer. I can’t tear my gaze away from him, watching the way his throat works as he swallows and his tongue swipes at the beer on his lips.

“Like what you see?”

My face heats. I lift a shoulder in a half shrug. “Meh, it’s fine.”

He snorts out a laugh. “Just fine? I’m a very handsome man. You know it. Admit it.”

“You’re something, that’s for sure …”

He rests his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Why won’t you admit it?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Eh, five out of ten.”

“Sure. Sure. Troublemaker.”

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?”

His eyes darken. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Hadley Jane,” he says, his voice gravelly.

My nipples pebble at his tone, at his words. Fucking traitors.

All I can do is laugh, praying it doesn’t sound forced, because if I don’t, I think I might do something I regret, like tell him I do want him to spank me.

Thankfully, I’m saved from having to answer by the waitress asking if we want to order any food. We do, since neither of us ate at the party and all we’ve had is ice cream.

She takes our order and disappears. Weston and I spend the next hour chatting about random things. It’s nice. Nice to spend time with him.

When we get back to my parents’ house later that evening, I tell everyone I’m tired and head to my room so I can put some space between Weston and I.