The Opportunist (Love Me with Lies, #1)(13)

“A minivan?” I say incredulously, thinking of the licorice sports car parked outside. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m not as bad as you think.”



I poked him on the shoulder. “You don’t want a minivan, you want a Porche. Fifteen years into your marriage you’ll be trading in the wife and the mini for something that gets your blood moving again. You’re spoiled?”

“Come on,” he said, laughing. “You didn’t get handed to me. If I had to fight any harder to get you here, I would be in a body cast.”

“Either way, you wrote the book and now you’re complaining about the reviews I’m giving it,” I quipped.

“Fair enough.” He held up his hands, “I’m going to start writing the sequel which will be considerably less narcissistic. Will you read it?”

“Only if every other girl on campus hasn’t.” He laughed so hard several people turned around to stare at us.

I plucked some kernels of popcorn from the colander and ate them thoughtfully. This wasn’t as dreadful as I’d anticipated. I was almost having fun. When I looked up, he was examining me.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Caleb sighed, “Why are you so hostile?”

“Listen pal, don’t think for one minute that I buy that sensitive guy routine you’ve got going. I know bippity, boppity, bullshit when I see it.”

“I didn’t know I was putting on a sensitive guy routine,” he said sounding pretty honest.

I studied his handsome face trying to see past his looks and into his soul.

He had the kind of eyes that always looked like they were laughing at you. Their color was amber and smile lines already creased their corners like delicate folds in paper.

“Give me a break,” I said. “You bring me to this cute little place for ice cream like we’re in high school. You know that old guy by name, you’re giving me looks….” I trailed off because he was frowning at me.

“You’re not very good at reading people.” He flicked a stray kernel of popcorn at me and it hit me on the forehead. I rubbed at the spot, insulted.

I was very good at reading people.



“Maybe, I’m a nice guy, Olivia.”



I snorted.



“You can read a lot about a person by their features and what they do with them. But, getting to know someone, who they really are, takes time,” he said.

“What can you tell about me?” I asked, “—since you’re such an expert.”



Caleb squinted at me like he didn’t think I was ready for his evaluation.



“Come on,” I urged, “if you’re gonna brag about it….”



“Okay…okay. Let’s see….”



I immediately regretted my decision. I had just given him license to stare at me and I was already blushing.



“There’s something sad about your eyes, maybe it’s how big they are or the way they dip downward like they’re disappointed. They’re definitely vulnerable, but bold too, because you look at everything like you’re challenging it. Then, there’s the way that you hold your chin. You are defiant and stubborn, and you have a snobby little nose that’s always pointing due north. I think you pretend to be a snob to keep people away.”

I felt sick. Too much ice cream. Too much truth.

“And my personal favorite, your lips.” He smiled as a pink flush crept up my neck. “Full and sensual, puckered, and always turned down at the corners. They kind of make me want to kiss them until they smile.”

I balked. He thought about kissing me? Of course he thought about kissing me. Guys were always thinking about that kind of stuff, stuff that led to sex. Underneath the table my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he was leaning back in his chair, one elbow resting casually on the table.



I swallowed the volleyball in my throat. My heart was acting the fool as it beat sporadically.



“No.”





“Good, because I don’t take you for a woman who’s ever really surprised, especially when the school jock proves her wrong.”



Now I felt ready to pass out.



Okay, so maybe there was a little more to this egg-head than I thought. I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes like cowboys did in old westerns.

“Okay, why did you miss the shot?”

“Why did I miss the shot?” he repeated. “Because I cared more about knowing you than I did about winning another game.”

This time I didn’t even try to conceal the dumbfounded look on my face. He had just passed me the greatest compliment, even better than the one about kissing my lips. Fuhgettabouit. I didn’t even have a quip to deliver. I didn’t care if my wit had failed me.

On our way out we stopped to browse through the candy and toys for sale. As if the place wasn’t small enough, they had to cram it full of junk.

Caleb was studying something in the corner as I studied him.

“Look at this thing,” he beckoned me over. I wedged myself between him and a row of sherbet colored Beanie Babies to get a look. It was a penny press, one of those souvenir coin makers in which you placed fifty cents and a penny. The machine would then press your penny and stamp a random message on it in its newly flattened form, keeping your fifty cents as payment. Caleb was pulling change from his pockets like he was roped on too much sugar.