Falling for the Playboy (Playboy in Paradise Book 1)

by S. L. Scott

  I sense her hesitation, which is strange because we’ve always been so open with each other about everything. Until now that is. She seems to be keeping a secret and I have no right to push since the guilt I carry from keeping my rendezvous with Evan a secret weighs on me. But like her, I’m not ready to share. So I don’t push.

  We sit a few minutes longer before heading in and getting dressed for the day. Our shifts are scheduled together since we share Sunny’s rusted VW bus that she bought for fifteen hundred dollars when she started school here two years ago.

  We’re at work by eleven and raise the large open-air doors on both sides of the place, which allow the breezes to flow through the building.

  When the lunch crowd leaves and the restaurant dies down, I grab a barstool and watch the two older men argue, accusing each other of cheating.

  “Hi, Mallory.”

  I jump, startled from behind. When I turn, it’s Noah standing there. “You scared me.”

  He smiles, it’s shy. “Sorry about that. I’ll try to announce myself next time.” His smile turns playful. “How are you?”

  “Good, how about yourself?”

  “Really good except the service in here is slow.”

  “You’re full of jokes today,” I say, sarcastically. “What are you having?”

  “Cola, straight up.”

  “Cola no ice coming right up.” I fill a glass and set it on the counter between us.

  He stays for a while and I talk about my life back home at the University of Colorado and my studies. He talks about his passions—surfing and customizing cars. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on Sunny’s VW.”

  “Really?”

  “Totally. I could get rid of the rust damage and make that car sparkle.” He slides off the stool and says, “C’mon. Let’s go look at it.”

  “Sunny?” I call into the kitchen. “Grab your keys and come out front.”

  She joins us a few minutes later out in the parking lot. Noah raises his hands and she tosses him the keys.

  “He’s gonna look at it. He might be able to get rid of the rust and paint it.”

  “I can’t afford that, Noah. I appreciate it though.”

  “Just step back and let me have some space,” he says, waving for us to back up.

  Noah bends over and looks under the bumper, analyzing something as he picks at the flaking beige paint. I take the opportunity to do a little analyzing myself. He’s wearing a fitted black tank top that shows off his muscles quite well. He has a tattoo that wasn’t visible yesterday under his shirt.

  “The structure of the body looks solid. That’s a good sign,” he says, rising back to his full height. Sunny and I gaze upon him as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s gorgeous. “I can come over one day while you’re working or to your house when you’re off and take a closer look. I’d really like to work on your body.” My mouth drops open and I feel the heat reach my cheeks as he smiles looking between us. I glance at her and she’s blushing too.

  He chuckles and the sound breaks the stunned silence we’re in and he clarifies what he meant. “The car’s body. Do you want to go with the original color?”

  Sunny laughs, blushing. “I’m ready for something more fun.”

  “We could go vintage red. I’ll do some research.”

  “I love that idea,” she says, beaming.

  The three of us walk back inside and Noah taps his hand on the bar. “I need to go. I’ve got some work to do for my family.” He turns to me, but hesitates, all confidence gone. “Um, so, you think you’d like to hang out later … maybe after you get off work tonight?”

  His eyes go to the floor while waiting for me to respond, but the words don’t come fast enough and an awkward silence fills the air. He looks back up, and suggests, “We can watch a movie or hang out and talk on the beach.”

  I look to Sunny whose eyes are bugging out telling me to go for it, but I’m still unsure for some reason. Feeling the pressure to respond, I reply, “Sure. That sounds fun. We’re closing at nine tonight.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up out front.”

  “Okay. Cool.”

  He walks out with a spring to his step and a smile on his face. I just said yes to someone that seems to be a nice guy, so I should feel happier than I do. Instead I feel weird inside.

  “Way to go, girl!” Sunny smiles and I force one on for show.

  When she disappears into the back, I rest my head in my hands willing myself to feel good. My head jolts up when a raucous group walks in.

  “Get your game face on, Mal. We’ve got company.”

  The group heads straight for the large table in the back, taking over like they own the joint. Sunny turns to me, and asks, “You want this table?”

  A bunch of college age guys who look hot from here. Yeah, it’s a bit intimidating. “No, you can have it.”

  Johnny strolls in behind them and greets me as he sits at the counter. “I see Ashford’s in today. Weird since we were just talking about him. His ears must’ve been burnin’.”

  “Which one’s Ashford?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better look at the customers. Sunny is at the table and moves around to the other side and that’s when I see him.

  Evan.

  “He’s the one in the green shirt.”

  I’m too stunned to say anything, so I stand there like an idiot. Of course, it couldn’t be as simple as leaving that night in the past. Of course, he would walk into the place where I work. Of course, the guy in the green shirt is Evan Ashford! That’s how my luck works—it doesn’t. Whatever I do, karma kicks my ass for doing it.

  The people at the table are watching him and his blonde friend, especially the two girls with them. My only saving grace, as I duck down to pretend to be washing glasses, is that he hasn’t seen me yet.

  A tall guy wraps his large, muscular arm around Sunny’s waist and pulls her to him. She laughs, comfortable in the overly friendly gesture. But the guy sitting across from them, the blonde one, seems to be bothered, almost irritated by the move. He gets up and walks away from the table, heading for the beach. Standing just outside the door, he looks back once before taking a deep breath. Evan takes command and rules the roost inside, knocking the big ones arm away. They keep it friendly, but Evan appears protective over her.

  Sunny yells in my direction. “Four burgers, all the way with fries. Two draft pitchers.”

  I nod, entering their order in then taking two pitchers from below the bar and start to fill the first. Laughter covers the space between, closing the gap and drawing my attention back to the group. Evan’s standing telling some kind of story and using his arms to demonstrate. The group is entranced by his over the top dramatics.

  Me—not so much.

  When I look back at the pitcher, I curse, “Shit!” The beer has overflowed, so I quickly shut the tap off and move that pitcher to the side. Feeling the heat of a dozen eyes staring at me, slowly, I peek. My eyes land on his first. Evan is glaring with his mouth open in shock. Everyone else starts laughing, but they return their attention to their own business. My thoughts are racing as fast as my heart. I feel like I’ve flown straight into hell. “Damn it!” I swear under my breath and close my eyes for a second trying to regain my sense of dignity I left lounging in his bed that night.

  Focusing on my job, I move the second pitcher under the tap and start filling it.

  “Can I take that one?”

  I look up and the blonde guy who left Evan’s table earlier is standing on the other side of the bar from me. His smile is gentle, his eyes sky blue, and his hair sun-bleached. I briefly wonder if every guy on this island is so good looking because everyone I’ve encountered is. The thought makes me smile. “Sure, it’s ready. Six cups?”

  “Uh,” he shifts uncomfortably while looking back over his shoulder at the table in the back. “Yeah, that’s good. I’m Zach. You’re new here, right?”

  “Hi, I’m Mallory and yep, I’m the new girl.”

&n
bsp; I don’t bother giving more than what was asked of me. Instead I concentrate on my job and place the second pitcher on the bar.

  “Thank you.” With a nod, he turns and leaves with the cups under his arm and a pitcher in each hand.

  When I finally dare to look back at the table, Evan is now sitting. He’s staring at the table as if willing it to be something other than beat-up wood. His glare is intense and then he slowly lifts his eyes up and looks right at me.

  My heart begins to race again and I need to leave. I need fresh air. “I’m taking a smoke break, Johnny. Will you cover for me?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  I grab my pack and lighter and cross the threshold of the bar. Before I’m out the door though, Johnny asks, “Are you okay?”

  With my head down, I don’t look up and I don’t break my pace. “Yeah, peachy keen.”

  When I make it out the door and am out of sight from everyone, I run to the corner of the building and try to keep myself from panicking. I won’t panic over Evan Ashford. He will not get that satisfaction.

  I inhale two cigarettes in the time it normally takes me to finish one, and I have a third tucked between my lips, unlit. His Maserati is parked twenty feet from me, demanding my attention the entire time. It’s perfection, like it’s owner, makes me want to flick lit cigarettes on it and slash his tires. My thoughts fire off in a fit of rage in my head. How dare he come into my place of business and look at me like I did something wrong. Screw you, Evan. You’re the asshole here, not me. I smile, delighting in the pleasure of knowing exactly the right thing to say at the right moment. But, it’s sad because these are wasted thoughts since I won’t be making the effort to talk to him. I won’t be the next girl in line crying over him. I refuse to be.

  I spend the next two hours in a silent showdown with him. Both of us unwilling to cross the imaginary line that has clearly been drawn, dividing the bar in half, his half and mine.

  Evan’s group finally seems to be winding down. With a sudden stand in solidarity, they get up from the table and head for the door. Evan takes the tail, letting his friends lead the way. His head is lowered and he’s focused on the ground in front of him. The only weakness he shows is one small indulgence. Without raising his head, he sneaks a peek in my direction, making eye contact one last time before he leaves. I give him nothing, but a glare.

  Zach stops at the door, and yells, “Thanks, Sunny. Good to meet you, Mallory.”

  “Zach seems nice,” I say, leaning forward against the counter.

  “Yeah, he is.” Sunny’s reply is light, but her mind is elsewhere.

  Thankfully, the dinner crowd starts arriving within the hour and we’re kept busy which keeps my mind off Evan and his crew. At closing time, the cook locks up after we slip out the back door. When we walk around the corner to the parking lot, Noah is standing by his Jeep, which is parked next to Sunny’s VW. He looks tense, his arms crossed and his jaw is tight, but he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Evan who is leaning against the front of his car on the other side of the gravel lot. Evan stands upright, his body is rigid and his eyes are locked on me. Sunny and I stop in our tracks, and look between them several times.

  My brain tells me to go to Noah, but my still shredded and traitorous heart tells me Evan’s the one, encouraging the behavior that got me into this mess.

  “Mallory?” Sunny, Noah, and Evan say my name at the same time wanting an answer, wanting me to choose.

  I look between the three of them one more time, and start walking.

  7

  Mallory

  Evan takes a few steps forward, but I walk to Noah. The showdown between them is over and the corner of Noah’s mouth lifts up, reveling in his victory as he greets me. He takes me gently by the wrist, and whispers close to my ear, “You look good, Mallory.”

  Tilting away from him, I feel awkward about the situation, the present company making me uncomfortable. I dare a glance over my shoulder and see Evan getting into his car. Zach is next to Sunny and they’re talking. Her eyes flick to mine and then Zach’s follow hers, but he looks quickly back to Sunny again. In that instant, I see a look that can only be described as longing between them. It’s fleeting, but there.

  Noah helps me into his Jeep and shuts the door. He jogs around to the driver’s side just as the sound of Evan revving his engine fills the awkwardness of the parking lot confrontation.

  “Mallory?” Sunny says, climbing up the side of the Jeep, standing on the step guard which puts her eye level with me. “You didn’t tell me,” she whispers. She knows about Evan.

  “Can we talk about this later?” I hate leaving everything like this, but I’m not going to talk about this with Noah sitting right next to me.

  “Yeah, sure. Have fun and I’ll see you at home.” She hops off and goes to her car.

  I peek back to where Evan is parked, just out of curiosity, but he’s already gone.

  “What’d you decide? The beach or a movie?” Noah asks, tapping my shoulder.

  I ponder both options for a moment. If we go to the beach, it will be us talking which I wouldn’t have minded ten minutes ago. I’d like to get to know Noah, but after this stand-off of sorts, I don’t want Evan to seep into the conversation, especially since they seem to be enemies. I choose the alternative. “A movie.”

  An hour later, I’m sitting on Noah’s couch with a large bowl of popcorn on my lap. He’s next to me, eating from the bowl that I’m not. The awful comedy we’re watching gives me a chance to think about what I’ve tried to disregard for days now—Evan. I have trouble enjoying the lame jokes on the large flat screen because I know Sunny is at home waiting for answers. I hear Noah laugh and insert my own forced laughter to be polite.

  I can’t figure out why Evan was there tonight. It seemed like we had said all we needed through the exchanged looks earlier in the day. My appetite is gone and I hand the bowl to Noah to hold since he’s the only one eating the popcorn anyway. He accepts the bowl without question, never losing sight of the movie. His expression is happy when I glance over at him. He’s a nice guy and I wish I could enjoy my time with him, but I’m too distracted. Evan tends to do that to me.

  8

  Evan

  I don’t act on impulse—at least not much, but I never know my journey’s end until I arrive. Tonight, I wish she didn’t live so close to the main road. Mallory is too accessible, and I’m too weak to stay away. I couldn’t stop thinking about her after I dropped her off the morning after we hooked up, so seeing her at Big Kehones this afternoon felt like an opportunity. After watching her at the restaurant, I knew my initial thoughts were right. I needed to take that opportunity and explore it further.

  It didn’t matter that I’d been fighting to rid her from my memory for days. When I laid eyes on her again, every emotion resurfaced. I hate feeling out of control and she makes me feel that way, which pisses me off. I’ve worked too damn hard to let her in. My mind is at war with my heart because of her.

  I’m completely mind-fucked over this girl, and thoroughly disgusted that I let her affect me like this. I need to get control back, some perspective on the situation. I need to put closure to this mess, refusing to let her win me over. I always win, even if I have to cheat to do it. And yet, I drive by her place finding some semblance of peace just by being near her. After she chose Noah tonight, I know she won’t let me in, so I don’t bother trying. She’s probably not home anyway. I stick to the road, setting my cruise control and drive by slowly. When I near, my gaze shifts toward the apartment, hoping to see something—the TV on, her hanging with Noah, or any sign of her.

  My car veers into the parking lot, making a deliberate decision … maybe it’s my heart calling the shots, but this feels a lot like something I shouldn’t be doing, but can’t stop myself. Maybe this is what I do in life, feels like a familiar pattern of going against better judgment.

  I park, but don’t get out. That’s where I draw the line.

  My breath
is stilled, knowing this is wrong. When did I become this person? She’s done this to me. I can’t tell the guys. I’d never hear the end of it. Driving by seemed innocent enough, but now I’m parked in the shadows of the complex lot, hoping to get a view of her from thirty yards away. The lights are out, and I can only assume she’s asleep, so what more do I expect from doing this?

  Leaning my head back, I slump down in my seat, and close my eyes. Images of her fill my thoughts—images of being on that couch with her, and holding her. I was once in heaven. Now I’m in hell. I don’t know where I went wrong, but an unfamiliar feeling has hijacked my normally careless thoughts. I’m thinking its regret.

  Getting out of my car, I stumble forward, escaping that emotion. I pull out a cigarette and light up, inhaling the calming addiction deep into my lungs. I decided a long time ago that if I was going to smoke, I was gonna do it fully. No light cigarettes for me. Only full on tar, nicotine, tobacco, and whatever other shit they put in these to make them taste and feel so fucking fantastic. I smoke the entire cigarette then toss the butt into the air, deciding I’m not going to do this anymore, but not quite ready to leave.

  9

  Mallory

  “Mallory,” Noah whispers from above. “Mallory, wake up.”

  I open my eyes and gasp when I see him standing over me.

  “You fell asleep.”

  “Oh.” I sit up, regaining my bearings. “Oh, sorry.”

  “I didn’t wake you because the movie kind of sucked. You didn’t miss anything.” He sits next to me and rubs my back.

  There’s a clock ticking on the mantle, and my eyes flash to the numbers. It’s almost midnight. “I should head home,” I say.

  “I’ll drive you back.”

  We chat on the way, keeping it light considering the late hour. He has lots of good stories and we don’t lack for conversation, even joking at one point over the easiness of the relationship. The car idles when he stops in front of the apartment building. He angles his body toward me, and says, “Mallory, I know you were asleep half the time, but I had a good time anyway. I’d like to hang out again.”