Playing the Player(56)

We are so not family, I wanted to say. Warmth coursed through me, and I reached for my water glass.

After the waitress took our order, we sat in silence. He didn’t seem bothered; he seemed content to sit there, watching the other patrons, sipping his tea.

“So your parents…” I said. “They seem really…interested in what you’re doing.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Curse of the only child.” He nodded at me. “You know how it is.” As soon as he said the words, his face paled. “Oh God, Trina. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking…” He closed his eyes, looking like he was in physical pain.

My stomach clenched as a wave of nausea snaked through me. “It’s okay.”

He opened his eyes and took a breath. “No, it’s not.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. I’m such an idiot.” His fingers drummed nervously on the table.

“Look, I just told you about Brian yesterday. And it’s not like you and I are…”

His hand stopped drumming the table. “Are what?”

“Um, you know. Friends. Or whatever.”

His whole body seemed to stiffen. “You don’t think we’re friends?”

Crap. I was going to need a very tall ladder to get out of the hole I’d just dug for myself. “I guess…” I shrugged, unable to look him in the eye.

Why had I offered to take him to dinner? Even Gillian would’ve had more poise than me right now.

He took a sip of tea and pushed his hair behind his ears. “I think we are. Friends.” His eyes latched on mine. “We’re definitely more than just…coworkers.”

I reached for my glass of water because I needed to do something with my mouth, since I was incapable of forming words.

His phone buzzed on the table, and he picked it up. He smiled at the screen then glanced at me. “You want to swing by Josh’s party after dinner? His parents are out of town. It should be crazy.”

I swallowed. “No thanks.” I wasn’t even sure which Josh we were talking about. There were over three thousand students at our school; Slade probably knew all of them. I knew maybe fifty.

“Do you ever go to parties, BB? Ever cut loose?” I knew he was teasing me, but it pissed me off.

“You’d know, wouldn’t you? Have you ever missed a party?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Touchy topic, eh?” He shrugged. “It’s not like I live at parties. I’ve been known to stay home once in a while.”

“Those must’ve been the nights I was out—the nights you stayed home.” I shot him a taunting smile and he shifted in his chair, looking almost embarrassed.

“Too bad,” I said, recklessly deciding to see if there was any truth to Desi’s crazy theory. I leaned toward him and whispered in a breathy voice. “You missed my table top dance. Somebody ended up with my bra.”

I heard a snap, and he glanced into his lap, startled. He set a broken chopstick on the table as a blush crept up his neck. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

Had I rattled the notorious playboy? Me, who didn’t even know how to flirt? The thought was thrilling and a little bit terrifying. Our waitress arrived, to my relief, placing steaming plates of food between us.

“Awesome.” Slade rubbed his hands. He filled my plate and slid it toward me. “Okay, risk taker, let’s see if I can give you something too hot to handle.” The suggestive tone of his voice made my toes curl.

I was clearly the amateur flirt, but the light dancing in his eyes made me feel surprisingly playful. “You underestimate me,” I told him, and then I took a bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue. It was spicy, but not overwhelming. “I’m disappointed, Edmunds.” I looked him right in the eye. “I was expecting something much hotter from you.”

He held my gaze. “Oh, I’m sure I can find something hot enough to rattle you, BB.”

I flushed under his heated stare. Why did I even try teasing him? He was a pro, and I was still using training wheels. I took a bite of the mee krob, the crispy noodles with their sweet sauce cooling my tongue. I wished I had something to cool down the rest of me.

“So what do you think Max will be doing twenty years from now?” Slade asked, scooping a second pile of rice onto his plate.

His question surprised me, but I was relieved he’d toned down the spicy talk, since I was out of ammo. I leaned back in my chair. “I have no idea. Something serious. Crime scene specialist?”

Slade laughed. “Too gross for him. I’m picturing him as a professor. The genius kind, who spends all his time holed up in his office researching wormholes or something.”

“How about Gilly?” I took another bite of curry, welcoming the heat on my tongue.

“Easy.” He paused to swallow a sip of water. “Teen actress. In and out of jail. Crazy talented, but a total train wreck.”

I shook my head, laughing. “Maybe she’ll find a Hollywood agent who can keep her out of trouble.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Gilly not in trouble? No way.”

“I know!” I pointed my fork at him, excited by my vision. “Max will be the super serious boyfriend. He’ll be DiMaggio to her Marilyn Monroe.”

Slade blinked. “Her what to her who?”