Page 46 of Swept Away
Something about him being so close to me makes me overly aware of myself.
I tug at my skirt and toss him a glance while setting my drink down.
“Monique said you’ve been living here for a while.”
“I was born here,” he says, setting his drink down as well, and shifting slightly toward me, his arm propped on the back of the sofa without reaching me. “How long have you been living here?” he asks. “I haven’t seen you in the neighborhood. I’d remember you if I’d crossed paths with you.”
His compliment makes my cheeks warm, and I’m sure that’s not what he had in mind, since he doesn’t follow up on that and focuses on his drink.
“I moved here for school. I’m in college,” I say, regardless of his reaction, and the two men shift their eyes to me.
“What are you studying?
“Business.”
Renewed interest flickers through their eyes.
“Business?” Carter says before looking at Mason. “We might need someone like her,” he tells his friend, and I can’t quite figure out what they might possibly need me for.
Besides, they share a smile that could mean things I can’t quite understand right now.
I shoot my eyes to Mason.
“What is he talking about?”
Grinning. Mason rises from his seat, rounds the coffee table, and sits next to me.
“He likes to talk a lot,” Mason says, slightly dismissively. “And he doesn’t always know what he’s talking about,” he adds with humor, and Carter chuckles.
Sitting between the two of them, I move my eyes from one to the other, and since they don’t elaborate on that, I ask the next question.
“Monique also said you two are ex-military,” I say, looking at Carter first and then Mason.
“Man, that woman likes to talk,” Mason says, leaning back into the couch and running his fingers through his hair, avoiding my stare.
He glances at Carter, still avoiding my eyes.
I can’t tell what Carter's expression says, as I keep my eyes on Mason, who shifts his focus back to me.
“Are you?”
“Yes, we are,” he says softly, a smile on his face.
“So, what are you doing now?”
Looking at me, he bites his lip.
“We’re hanging out with you,” he says, amused.
“Mason?”
“Yes, baby.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He clearly likes our back and forth as he slides his folded arm beneath his head, and shifts his eyes to me, studying me.
“We’re in between jobs.”
