Blow(19)

My laugh was dry. “I guess you could say that. Now, I avoid my mother. I can’t stand her pretentiousness and she can’t stand my unwillingness to concede to the haughty lifestyle she lives. So we’ve both agreed it’s better if we limit our conversations. “

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s for the best. And besides, my father and I have a closer relationship than I ever thought we would, so things aren’t all that bad.”

What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I spouting useless information about myself to her that I was certain made no sense?

“What happened when you were fifteen?” Her eyes were focused and sharp when she spoke this time.

I shook my head, not willing to dare go there. “It was a long time ago. It’s not something I want to talk about.”

She cleared her throat. “I get it. I want you to know, I wasn’t really honest before. I didn’t really hate my mother. I felt sorry for her but I didn’t hate her. Not when she was alive, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Like you said, it was a long time ago.”

I stopped at another light and reached across the console. I thought about grabbing her hand, but that seemed too much like pity. So instead of taking her hand, I removed her hat and tossed it on the floor behind me. “It’s all wet. You’ll get sick if you keep it on your head.”

She smirked at me. “I like that hat.”

“I know,” I said, smirking back.

The doubtful look on her face was so cute. “And how do you know that?”

“You keep putting it on. It’s obvious you’re attached to it.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m attached to it.”

I raised a brow.

“Well, maybe a little,” she said with a laugh.

The fact that I’d made her smile made me smile.

As soon as I resumed driving, I took a left onto Arlington, and she went back to staring out the window.

The brick row houses with fancy doors, decorative ironwork, brick sidewalks, narrow streets, and gas lamps told me we’d crossed into Beacon Hill. I have to say, of all the areas in Boston, I really liked this neighborhood the most. I grew up here but never spent much time here. I was always shuffling between Manhattan’s Upper East Side and Dorchester Heights.

Finally, she spoke. “It’s up here on the left.”

I pulled into the open space just outside the boutique at the base of the hill. “The House of Sterling,” I read aloud. “Is this the place?”

“Yes, it’s mine. It opens tomorrow.”

“It’s yours?”

Her smile was bright. “It is.”

“What do you sell?”

Excitement was all around her. “Imports from all the countries I’ve been to.”

The rain was coming down in buckets. “Nice. I can’t read what the window says.”

Her spine seemed to straighten in pride. “It says, ‘The finest things life has to offer.’”

“Well, Elle,” I glanced to the sign and back to her, “Sterling, I have to assume, show me the finest things life has to offer.”

She threw me a small smile and instantly, the mood had lightened. “You assume correct, Logan McPherson.”

I liked the way she said my name. I wanted to ask her to say it again and then wanted to punch myself for thinking that.

Lame.

What was I—twelve?

And a girl?

When she reached behind me and grabbed her hat, I just shook my head.

That red hat.

It was late, and everything was closed, the street empty. Still, I moved fast, but funny, she moved even faster. As soon as I’d opened her door, she bolted around the car to a small overhang just next to the sign. She fumbled for her keys and I squeezed under the overhang behind her. I was close. Really close. Close enough that I could feel the curves of her body brushing against mine.

I couldn’t help but be turned on.

I peered over her shoulder like she might need help, in an attempt to move even closer. It was a dick move and even though I knew it was, I couldn’t help myself. It was a case of body taking over mind. Mentally slapping myself, I glanced down and noticed her hands were shaking and that she couldn’t get the key in the lock.

“Here, let me.” I could be a gentleman.

Elle turned her head and her warm breath gusted across my neck. That’s how close she was. She turned back but didn’t hand me the key, so I reached out with my hand and covered hers as I guided her fingers toward the lock. With my hand squeezing hers, I turned the key and as I did, an overwhelming desire to take her right there overwhelmed me.

The door opened but I didn’t step back.

She didn’t step forward, either.

We both stood there, our bodies aligned in such a way that it would be hard to argue that we didn’t want each other.

It would be harder to argue that we weren’t going to f*ck.





ELLE


“Is that you, Elle?” a voice called.

With his hard body pressed against mine, and arousal flooding me in a way it never had, her voice took a moment to register. But when it did, my eyes flew open. “Peyton, where are you?”

“I’m just coming upstairs,” she called.