Page 4 of Sharing Shadow Secrets
His lips twitch with amusement, and then it’s silent between us. The crowd keeps growing, and the hum of conversation buzzes in the air. I’m enjoying talking with him and want to keep it going. “So, what do you do?” I ask, inching closer.
“I manage relationships.”
“Vague.” I squint at him, curious if that means he golfs all day, entertaining clients, or if he’s more like me, in the weeds with clients day to day.
He smiles, and Brandon is hot—very hot.
“I work at Cryptoball.”
Cryptoball.Declan Kruk’s company. I bet he golfs all day then.
“Are you, like, house sitting?” I ask, since he said he doesn’t know Nicholas and is crashing this party.
“No. I’m staying at my family’s house.” He points down the shoreline to another mansion. So Brandon’s a rich kid. Of course the Crypto-bro is.Now the loafers make sense.
“Rachel is best friends with Nicholas’s girlfriend, Emily. She told me I could come.”
“Nice. Emily seems great. Nicholas is so cute when he talks about her.”
I think back to a past virtual meeting, the way his voice softened and shoulders lowered when he thanked me for forcinghim to dress up as Santa. Then the way he blushed when he shared how the gimmick got his crush, Emily, to sit on his lap.
A man has never been so smitten with me.
“I’ve never met either of them,” Brandon whispers in my ear.Why is he whispering?Why is that sexy?
“Well, every party needs a crasher,” I deadpan, trying to lower my heart rate and push down the butterflies from that whisper. “At least you’re not the kind that will steal something.”
“How do you know I won’t steal anything?” he asks coyly.
“The fact that youalreadyhave a mansion.”
He chuckles. “We could steal something.”
“We?” I shake my head. “I’d go to jail, and you’d magically get the charges dropped.”
He takes another sip, like he’s pondering what to say. “Why are you assuming I’d leave you hanging?”
“Because you don’t know me.”
“I’d like to.” He smirks, and shit. Blatant flirting from Brandon—I like it.
“I generally don’t like guys in loafers,” I sass, looking down at his shoes.And this, right here, is why you’re single.He gave you an in and you responded with an insult.
“Well, I said I was done with brunettes.”
I bite my lip, loving his quick wit. “I don’t think rich guys are all they’re cracked up to be,” I say with a slow smile.
“Does this usually work for you?”
“What?”
“Being an asshole,” he says with a wide grin, poking my shoulder.
I laugh, and his eyes rake down me. I shouldn’t feel self-conscious about him checking me out, but my brain is wondering if he’s into thick girls. I’m a size ten and look like a pear with boobs. My thighs have touched since I can remember,another reason why shorts under dresses is the move in the summer.
Chub rub is the worst.
Meanwhile, Brandon looks like the kind of guy who lives in the gym. His eyes meet mine again, holding my gaze.
