“What areyoudoing out here? I can’t imagine you're from Longwood. I think I’d remember someone who looks like you.” The words escape before I can think better of them. If I could slap my forehead without looking like a damn dork, I would.
He raises a curious eyebrow. “Likeme?”
“Yeah, someone all tall, dark, and brooding.” I bite my lower lip to camouflage a smirk.
“What makes you think I’m brooding?”
“You have this… intense thing about you. Like you’re all intelligent and mysterious.” The smile breaks through at the thought of one of my favorite brooding men. “It’s very Stefan Salvatore.”
“Stefan Salva-who?” He furrows his brows.
“Never mind.” I wave him off. “And besides, you'realsohere talking to me instead of enjoying the festivities, so I don’t thinkyou'rethe party boy type.”
“You seem to know a lot about me,” he quips, obviously amused.
I shrug. “I’m good at figuring people out.”
“Oh, is that so? And what else have you figured out about me?” His arm veins bulge as he folds them across his chest.
Fuck, he’s sexy.
“Hmm.” I tap my finger to my lips. “I think you’re a little cocky. You deflect using humor. You’re nosy.” I raise my brows at him. “I think you’re completely aware of how good-looking you are.”
“You think I’m good-looking?” He grins, waggling his eyebrows.
“Let me finish.” I hold up a hand. “You’re aware of it, but you don’t seem to let it go to your head. Otherwise, you’d probably be shirtless by the water, trying to pick up a cheerleader rather than talking to the girl who’s avoiding that party like the plague.”
“Wow.” He nods while rubbing a hand over his mouth. “You figured all that stuff out after a two-minute conversation? Either you’re incredibly perceptive or I’m embarrassingly predictable.”
“Let’s call it a tie.” I smirk, enjoying his playfulness. “What I can’t figure out… is what you're doing at this party when you so clearly aren’t from around here. No one local would wear pure white Nikes to the dirty ass springs.” I gesture to his mud-splattered tennis shoes, and he looks down before returning his amused gaze to mine.
“Oh well.” He shrugs. “What are shoes for if not to be worn?”
“More witty banter and questions left unanswered.” I roll my eyes teasingly.
“Well, I amnotfrom around here. As you suspected, Sherlock.” He shifts on his heels. “I’m here visiting family and my… uh, brother told me there would probably be a party here tonight if I wanted to get out of the house. So…”
“Oh, is your brother here tonight too?”
“Nah,” he responds, shaking his head. “He’s older.”
“Is it your first time in Longwood?”
“Yeah, I came to meet my… dad,” he says with a pained expression. I want to reach out and smooth the wrinkles caused by the frown.
“Tomeetyour dad?” I hardly know this guy, but there’s this intense desire to learn everything about him.
“Mybiologicaldad. He wasn’t around growing up.” A heavy breath escapes him. “A lot of… shit happened earlier this year. So I took the week off to come meet him.”
“Weren’t you ever curious who he was?”
He looks down at his hands, wringing them together. “I mean… not really. But I made a promise to give Mark a chance so… here I am.”
My brows raise upward. “Wow, that must be a lot for you to deal with.”
“Yeah,” he says sheepishly. “It has been… Sorry, my head’s just a jumbled mess, so I guess you’re the victim of my inevitable brain dump.”
“No apologies needed.” My head shakes as I smile reassuringly. “I’m a good listener.”