Page 38 of Stroke of Fate

“Tempting,” I tease, my body relaxing more with every passing second.

He smiles, and I smile back. An honest, genuine smile. The kind that, if you hold it long enough, makes your cheeks ache. And it’s all for him. For once, I embrace the thought instead of pushing it away.

“I love it when you do that.”

“What? Smile?” Despite the flutter kicking up astorm in my belly at hearing those words, I laugh.

“That too,” he grins, leaning in closer. “But I meant when you look at me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen.”

My mouth opens and then closes. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. Now I’m at a loss for words, gaping at him like a fish.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. What can I even say to that? Nothing I think of feels like a good enough response.

Eventually, I settle on a lame “Oh.”

His only acknowledgment is a soft smile before his gaze shifts forward again, but I keep mine on him. He’s just too easy to look at.

“That day in my apartment I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. Shutting the door, making you carry the box by yourself,” he says, casting a guilty look in my direction. “It was uncalled for, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I...it’s ok. You’re forgiven.” It’s surprisingly easy to say those words, and the relief on his face is palpable.

“Now, about Finn.” I nudge him playfully with my shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.

He shakes his head. “Hell, no, I’m not apologizing for that one. Sorry, Teddy Bear, but I stand my ground.”

“Fine, fine, whatever you say, Whiskey Eyes.”

The second I realize what I just called him, my mouth clamps shut.

He cocks his head, brows knitting together. “Whiskey Eyes?”

Deciding not to backpedal and make things even more awkward, I go with it. “Your eyes—they, uhm, remind me of the color of whisky.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“I mean, whiskey is an acquired taste.” I pull a face, making him chuckle.

“Damn, okay, I deserved that one.” His smile doesn’t waver, and I’m glad he knows I’m just messing with him.

“But,” I admit quietly, “the taste eventually grows on you.”

His eyes soften, and he opens his mouth just as a shriek pierces the air, followed by splashing water.

“You’re so dead, Nathan!” A girl screams, and more splashing follows.

“Sounds like Nathan’s in trouble,” Levi chuckles.

“Speaking of trouble, I, uh, should get back to my friends in case they’re worried.” I don’t want to leave, but that’s precisely why I should.

Who knows what else I’ll admit to the longer we stay here? And I don’t exactly feel great about leaving my friends to hang out with a guy.

I stand, and Levi does the same, grabbing the blanket on his way up.

On our way back to the crowded first floor, it dawns on me that I never asked him how he got my number. I can’t deny I’m at least a little curious.

“How did you get my number?” I shout over the noise.

“Yesterday, in the courtyard, I plugged my number into your phone and texted myself.” He winks and, with that, walks in the opposite direction.

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