Page 49 of Nerdy or Nice
And yet, I couldn't help but wonder if it had cost himtoomuch. I mean, for someone who worked in his basement, he sure seemed to have a lot of money.
Maybe he and his grandfather shared expenses?
Knowing Clint, this had to be the case. It seemed like a win-win, and I tried not to overthink it even as darker thoughts crept in at the corners.
What if Drake wastooextravagant?
Like, what if was living beyond his means?
Maybe he was terrible with money.
This had happened to my mom at least a dozen times. She'd be dating a supposedly successful guy who seemed to be incredibly well off, only to discover far too late that his flash was superficial and that he was drowning in debt.
Thelasttime this had happened, she'd discovered the truth only after the guy had asked for a loan – to pay for his overdue child support, no less.
The recollection was a cold splash of reality, and suddenly, the light from the silver chandeliers had lost some of its luster.
I wasn't shopping for Mister Big Bucks, but I had no interest in supporting a deadbeat dad either.
Drake's voice interrupted my thoughts. "I'd pay more than a penny."
I blinked.Had he read my mind?Or had I zoned out and missed part of our conversation?With an awkward laugh, I said, "Sorry, did I miss something?"
"I'm just saying, I'd pay more than a penny to know what you're thinking."
And I'd pay a Santa's ransom to keep it private.I mean, just because my own mind had taken a turn for the worse, there was no reason to yank Drake along for the ride. Stalling, I asked, "Why do you saythat?"
"Because you looked miles away." He gave me a warm smile. "Is something on your mind?"
"No. Nothing important."And I meant it, too.Here I was with an amazing guy at the social event of the season, and I was worrying about child support payments for God's sake.
When Drake's eyebrows lifted in a silent question, I forced another laugh. "Just tell me. You don't have any secret kids, do you?"
"What if I did?"
My steps faltered, and it was only the steadiness of Drake's embrace that kept me from tripping over my own two feet. "Well," I stammered. "If you did, that would be fine. Totally great. I mean, I just wish you would've mentioned them, but…"
He laughed. "Hey."
"What?"
"I don't have any." His smile softened. "But I'd like to."
Something warm and wonderful squeezed at my heart. "Really? How many?"
"At least a couple. Maybe more." His gaze probed mine. "Depending on the girl."
The look in his eyes stole my breath away. "Me, too." And then, hearing the breathiness of my own voice, I gave an embarrassed eye-roll. "Except, I guess, it depends on the guy."
"Good to know," Drake said as he pulled me close and whispered into my ear, "Lucky bastard."
It was in that moment that I made a decision. I would absolutely, positively, no matter what, refuse to let my mom's exploits ruin what should be a wonderful evening, so I molded myself against him, forgetting all form or fashion as we moved together in a slow circle, unconventional, but achingly close.
His body was warm and hard. His movements were steady and sure. And his hands – oh, boy those hands – they were caressing my back just the way I liked.
Already, it was nearly one o'clock in the morning, and the ball was winding down. Over Drake's shoulder, I saw an attractive older couple kissing on the dance floor. When the guy pulled back and whispered something into her ear, she gave a girlish giggle that mademewant to giggle, too.
In my dreams, the woman would be me someday. Or better yet, me with Drake, because I was falling so hard and fast, I couldn't seem to make myself stop.
