Fable flashes me a quick smile before she cups her hand around the lighter and flicks it once, twice. Three times before it finally ignites. The cigarette dangles from between her lips and she brings the lighter to the tip, taking a drag and causing it to light. “Oh my God, totally.” She blows out a stream of smoke over the railing and the little gray cloud hovers in the darkness before it slowly disappears. “Your dad…I think he was checking me out.”
“He was,” I agree, my voice low. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She waves her hand, as if waving away what my dad did.
“I brought you here. Technically itismy fault.”
Another wave of her hand as she dismisses my words. “I don’t look at it that way. I’ll just say this. Next time you bring a fake girlfriend, maybe you should prepare her a little better.”
I chuckle. There’s no way I’m bringing a pretend girlfriend here again. If I had my way, I’d never come back. I don’t care how beautiful this place is. I hate it. This house is like a prison to me.
“Can I ask you a super-personal question?”
A ragged breath escapes me. Girls—more like Fable—and their super-personal questions are going to be the death of me. “Go for it.” I have nothing to hide.
Bullshit. I have so much to hide it scares me.
“Drew…are you gay?”
Holy hell! Why does everyone think this?
Fable
I wait breathlessly for his answer. The air is frigid, the wind whipping around chilling me to my very bones. I’m blaming the sudden inhalation of nicotine for my way-too-brash question. I could’ve waited at least a day or two, right? Hung out with him a bit, gotten some personal time in with him first.
My big fat mouth and my extra-curious brain couldn’t wait one second longer. I had to know. It would make spending all of this time with him for seven long days a lot easier. I wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to make a move on me.
Or worse, secretly wishing hewouldmake a move on me. Wondering what my problem is and why he’s not attracted to me.
Holy crap, hestillhasn’t given me an answer!
“Why do you ask?” he finally says, answering a question with a question, which I hate. Owen does that sort of thing to me all the time.
Plus by doing so, Drew’s going to make me rattle off a list of every gay suspicion I have about him. Not that Ihave many. I only came to the realization that he might be gay on the long-as-hell drive to his parents’ house.
“Well, you said you’ve never really had a girlfriend before. Your dad is worried about you and your lack of female company. I’ve never seen you with a girl at the bar, let alone seen you flirt with any—not that I’ve paid any attention,” I made sure to add. I’m being honest. Ihaven’tpaid too much attention to him, but if my memory serves right, he’s not that much of a player.
“Maybe I haven’t found the right girl yet.”
My heart flares with hope, which is so incredibly stupid I wish I could punch myself in the chest. Yeah, I’m a complete idiot to think I have a chance at being the one for Drew.
The hired one. That’s all I’ll ever be.
“Are you, um, saving yourself?” I force my voice to sound casual, while inside everything has turned to chaos. I’m twenty. He’s at least twenty-one. Is there really a possibility he’s a virgin? I know they’re out there, but I never figured Drew Callahan for one.
His dark chuckle tells me I’m off base, and the relief that sweeps through me is near overwhelming. “I am definitely not a virgin. But it’s…been a while.”
I take a drag off my cigarette. “Why?” Whoops, there I go again! Delving into his personal life when I have no business doing so.
He shrugs, his flannel shirt stretching across hisshoulders. Drew has a really fine set of shoulders. “I don’t do relationships. Sex is too—complicated.”
Interesting. I find it far too easy. “Maybe you’re having the wrong kind of sex.”
“Maybe the wrong kind of sex is all you can get.” His strong jaw goes firm and his eyes darken. He’s angry. I know this is all sorts of twisted, but he looks incredibly sexy. His fierce expression alone makes my heart go pitter-patter.
His answer is way too mysterious for me. “Sounds like you’redefinitelyhaving the wrong kind of sex.” I try to laugh, flicking the ash of my cigarette over the railing, noticing his undisguised look of disgust.
Drew’s not laughing either. I wonder if I offended him.