The OUT OF LINE Series

by Jen McLaughlin

  “I know what you wanted.” He flexed his jaw and stepped back from me. His gaze dipped below my face for a second, but then he turned around again. My stomach coiled, as if he’d touched me instead of simply looking my way. “Put the towel on.”

  I scowled at his back. If he wanted to ignore the desire between us, I would let him, but I didn’t have to make it easy on him. After drying my hair, I flung the towel across the bench before I sat down and reclined against the seat. Covering a yawn with my hand, I dropped my head back against the wood.

  “You got something against a towel?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I want to feel the sun.”

  “Feel it through a towel,” he said.

  “Nah. I’m good.” I bit my lower lip to keep it from lifting into a smile. I kind of liked the fact that he couldn’t bear seeing me. At least, now that I knew why. “That was fun but exhausting.”

  I heard him move closer, but didn’t open my eyes. “Maybe you’re tired because of the partying and not the surfing,” he said.

  “I doubt it.” I cracked one eye open to look at him. He was watching me, but he wasn’t staring at my face. “Though, I did meet a nice guy.”

  His fists went even tighter. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. His name’s Cory.” I shrugged. “He gave me his number. We’re in a bunch of classes together, and we even have the same major.”

  He was exactly the kind of man Dad would pick for me. The kind of guy he would want to call his son-in-law. If they ever met, Dad would probably start drawing up wedding invitations within minutes of meeting Cory. I, however, preferred my men with tattoos and attitude and perpetually disheveled hair.

  Men like Finn.

  “How perfect,” he said, his voice tight. “I’m sure Daddy would approve of him.”

  My eyes flew open. His thoughts mirrored my own way too well. “Excuse me?”

  “I-I mean, he sounds like the kind of guy a father would like.” He sat down beside me, hanging his hands in between his knees. “From what little I know of fathers, anyway.”

  I relaxed again. For a second, I thought he knew something more about me than he should have. “Did any of your girlfriends’ fathers like you?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t really had any. I’ve been married to my work for the past five years. Not much free time.”

  “Oh.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “I can’t imagine you being single. I figured a guy like you would have numerous women in his life.”

  “Now who’s making assumptions?” he asked, giving me a pointed look.

  “I’m sorry,” I quickly said. I hated when he did it to me, and I’d gone and done it to him. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “Apology accepted, but it just so happens you might be right.”

  My jaw dropped open. He didn’t make any sense. “You said you’ve been single.”

  “I’ve been single.” He grinned at me. “Not celibate. Two different things.”

  I rolled my eyes, disappointed by his honesty. I’d been hoping…what, exactly? That he’d spent his whole life waiting for the right girl to come along? As if.

  He shifted on the bench and stole a glance at me. “Are you going to see this guy again?”

  “I’m sure I will. We do have classes together.”

  He sighed. “I meant outside of school.”

  “I don’t know.” I looked up, watching the clouds move lazily across the blue sky. One of the clouds looked like the Washington Monument, and it made me miss home and my mom. Heck, even my dad.

  “What’s his last name?”

  I eyed him. “Why?”

  “Just curious if I knew him.”

  “Oh. Pinkerton.” I watched the monument cloud until in merged with another, making it unrecognizable. “I’ll probably see him again. He seems nice.”

  “Nice,” he muttered. “That’s a word for a puppy, not a man. Nice won’t make you scream out in bed.”

  I choked on a laugh, but something inside of me responded differently. Finn would probably be able to make me scream his name. Too bad he didn’t want to. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “If the shoe fits…”

  “Well, I like puppies and nice guys like Cory,” I added. Even though I was lying. I much preferred Finn.

  “You’re a dog person?” he asked.

  “Some dogs.” I smiled and pictured Mom’s dog running through the yard with a pink bow around its neck. “I like the little terrier my mom has. She’s cute.”

  “Do you miss home?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and swallowed hard. “I mean, it’s been less than a week, but I definitely miss certain things. Although it’s nice being on my own. Making friends. Surfing. Riding a motorcycle.” I hesitated. I wanted to tell him more about myself. Wanted to trust him. “I couldn’t do that stuff at home. There were too many eyes on me all the time.”

  “Too many eyes,” he said softly. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

  “It kind of sucked,” I admitted. “My dad is kind of…important in his company. He’s in politics, and with politics…people are always watching.”

  He cleared his throat. “You didn’t mention that before.”

  “I didn’t trust you before.” I met his eyes and bit down on my lip. “I do now. I’m hoping it’s not a mistake.”

  “It’s not,” he said, but his eyes looked shaded with something I couldn’t name. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Yeah, I’m trying to keep a low profile. I look a lot different than I used to, and I was lucky enough to be out of the media for the last year. Hopefully it stays that way.”

  “So, you’re like a Kennedy?”

  I laughed. I wasn’t nearly so high up on the political food chain, nor did I want to be. “Hardly so glamorous.”

  He elbowed me in the ribs. “I like the idea of being friends with a Kennedy. It sounds impressive, don’t ya think?”

  “No,” I managed to say with a straight face, but then I ruined it by laughing. “I’m not as cool as them.”

  “I think you’re just fine the way you are,” he said. “How did you manage to come here without security?”

  My breath caught in my throat, but I refused to read into that too much. “Dad wanted to send private security with me, but I refused. He probably sent some out here anyway, knowing him.”

  He tugged on his hair. “Do you think he’d do that?”

  “I know he’d do that.” I played with the string on the side of my bikini bottoms, not wanting to look at him when I told him this part. “They’re probably watching us right now.”

  He gave an uneasy laugh. “If so, they’ll probably kick my ass for taking you surfing.”

  “If they’re smart, they’ll never show their faces.”

  He snorted. “Should they be scared of you?”

  “Scared of how I’ll react? Yes.” I stood up and held out my hands. “I want to be normal. Have normal fun and kiss normal boys. Study late at night and party occasionally. Is that so wrong?”

  “Whoa.” He stood up and grabbed my hands. “I didn’t say it was.”

  “I know. Sorry.” The righteous anger seemed to disappear, leaving me as deflated as a leaky balloon. “I get all worked up when I think of those sickos out there, following me around. Watching everything I do. I mean, get a life. Who in their right mind takes a job watching someone else 24/7? It’s like being a glorified stalker if you ask me.”

  He gave an uneasy laugh. “Come on. Let’s get some coffee and forget all about the men possibly watching us.”

  “All right.” I took a deep breath and dropped one of his hands. “This time, it’s on me.”

  He stiffened. “I’d rather—”

  “And so would I. We’re not dating. We’re friends, and friends split bills.”

  He hesitated. “They do,” he admitted. “I have to ask. Why is it you never had friends?”

  “Uh…” I nibbled on my lower lip. “Well, not man
y of them passed by Dad’s scrutiny. If their parents had even a whiff of scandal attached to their names, we were done hanging out. The few who did pass were major bitches.”

  “Ah.” His fingers flexed on mine. “What about boyfriends?”

  “Please,” I scoffed. “Do you really think they passed Daddy’s test?”

  He flinched. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. I stopped trying after tenth grade.”

  “What about in Europe?”

  “Not a chance.” I tightened my grip on his hand. “I had security with me the whole time. I met a cute Italian boy while I was there, but that was it.”

  His thumb stroked the back of my hand. “Ciao, bella.”

  “You speak Italian?”

  “Nope. That’s all I know,” he admitted, laughing. Dropping my hand, he stopped at the coffee stand and propelled me forward with a hand splayed across my lower back. “Ladies first.”

  My cheeks went all hot, and my body all tingly. From a simple touch. “Uh, a nonfat iced mocha, please.”

  “I’ll have a black coffee,” he said, smiling at the barista.

  The barista almost dropped the cup in her hand, then dipped her head low. I rolled my eyes, but realized I probably looked that stupid around him half of the time. I shook my head. “Don’t you ever branch out? Try something new?”

  He eyed me from under his shades. “I like my coffee black.”

  “Did you ever get a mocha or a latte?”

  “Nope.” He shuddered. “I don’t drink girly coffee.”

  “It’s not girly. Besides, if you’ve never had it, then you can’t know that you don’t like it.” I headed for the end of the counter. His hand stayed on my back, as if he didn’t want to let me go. And I didn’t want him to let me go. I pulled a twenty out of my bikini top and handed it to the cashier. It had actually stayed dry.

  “Because I know.” He cleared his throat. “Did you seriously just take money out of your bra to pay?”

  “It’s not a bra. It’s a bikini.” I shot him a grin over my shoulder. “But yeah. Strippers do it, why not surfers?”

  He grabbed my coffee and handed it to me. “Did you know two out of six dollar bills have been shoved down a stripper’s G-string at one point in time?”

  “No.” I shuddered. “Thanks for that.”

  I dropped all the ones I’d gotten back into the tip jar and walked toward our bench. Our surfboards still sat there. God, I loved California. In D.C., they would have been gone within seconds. I could get used to this place. Used to the way of life. Especially the cute surfer boys who came with it.

  “So, you ready for school to start tomorrow?” he asked, blowing on his coffee as he sat down beside me.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I held out my drink and pressed my straw to his lips. “Take a sip.”

  He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “No.”

  “For me?”

  His eyes flashed. “You don’t play fair.”

  “I’m the daughter of a politician. What did you expect?”

  “Touché.” He leaned in, closed his lips around the straw, and took a sip. When he pulled back, he swallowed. “It’s not too bad, I guess, but I’ll stick with my black coffee.”

  “Hm.” I lifted the cup to my own lips and sipped. I couldn’t help but think that my lips were where his had just been. I wished he would kiss me again. Wished he would stop being all honorable and stuff. As I pulled back, I flicked my tongue over the tip of the straw. “Tastes good to me.”

  He leaned in, his gaze on my mouth. I held my breath, waiting to see what he would do. Waiting to see if he’d stop fighting and start kissing, but he froze a few breaths away from me. “It’s okay.” He leaned back against the bench and took a long swig of his coffee. “So, what else are you doing today, Ginger?”

  Hello, change of topic. “I have this thing,” I mumbled.

  He sat forward. “What thing?”

  “Does it matter?”

  His gaze pinned me down. Made it hard to concentrate. “Yes. Friends tell each other their plans.”

  “What are yours?”

  “I’m going to lay around in my boxers and watch TV all night. Maybe drink a few beers.” He pointed at me with his coffee. “Your turn.”

  I was too busy picturing him in his boxers to fight him. “I’m going to the soup kitchen to help serve Sunday dinner.”

  He paused with his cup halfway to his lips. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” I took a long sip of coffee, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “It’s important to give back to the community.”

  He set his coffee down and cupped my chin with his thumb and finger. “You’re one amazing woman. You know that, right, Ginger?”

  The nickname that had once annoyed me sent shivers through my veins now. “Not really. I’m just a college girl.”

  “Most college students are too busy partying to care about feeding the poor.”

  “I’ve gotta share what I can.” I shrugged. “It’s only right. Karma and all that.”

  He pressed his lips together, seeming to be stopping himself from saying something. “I’m going with you. I want to help.”

  “You don’t have to,” I protested, even though my whole body quickened at the thought of spending more time with him. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “I know you will.” He brushed his thumb over my lip. “But I want to go with you.”

  “All right,” I said breathlessly. “Wanna pick me up on the bike at six?”

  He laughed. “I created a beast with that thing, didn’t I?”

  “Yep.” I stood up, tossed out my empty coffee and grabbed my surfboard. “I’ll be waiting. Don’t be late.”

  It was almost time to meet up with Finn, so I hurried down the stairs, my heart beating a little bit faster than usual. After I warned him not to be late, there was no way I could be late myself. He’d never let that slide. As I passed the last dorm in my hallway, a girl came out and grabbed my wrist. “Hey, you the one who put all those designer clothes in the communal room?”

  “Uh, no.” Well, crap. I didn’t think anyone had seen me earlier. I tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  The girl adjusted her top. The top I had put in a box for others to take a few hours ago. “Darn. I could’ve sworn they said it was the redhead in 123.”

  Well, there went my career as a super spy. I had tried to be sneaky about it, but I couldn’t help but share some of the clothes my mom constantly sent me with the other people in my dorm. I mean, why not? I’d seen and heard how some of the students didn’t have much money for clothes…and I had too many. That’s all. “Nope. Wrong room.”

  “Oh, well, sorry. I just wanted to say thanks. I’ve always wanted a Gucci top.”

  I smiled and waved over my shoulder as I started down the hallway. “Well, if I figure out who it is, I’ll pass the message along.”

  “Thanks.”

  I made a mental note to put more Gucci out next time Mom sent a care package. Most of the stuff went to the local homeless shelters, but it didn’t hurt to anonymously help my fellow classmates, did it? As I pushed through the doors to the outside, I smiled at the sight of Finn waiting for me. He leaned against a tree, looking completely at ease in his board shorts and red T-shirt. His ink stood out even more against the contrast of the red. When I approached him, he cocked a brow.

  “I’m on time.”

  “So am I. Look at us, being all grown up and stuff.” I patted his arm. Hot damn, his arm was hard. And huge. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  He fell into step beside me, like he always did. I wished I was bold enough to grab his hand again, but he’d clearly told me he didn’t want anything to do with me, romance-wise. So I kept my grabby hands to myself. “Have you ever helped out at a shelter before?”

  “No.” He stole a quick look at me. “That’s probably pretty crappy of me, huh?”

  I sh
ook my head. “Nah.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Why not?” I stopped at his motorcycle. As I watched, he climbed on and handed me his helmet. Maybe I should have went out and bought my own earlier. Then he would stop insisting I use his. Would that look too forward? Be too pushy? I had no idea. “Shouldn’t you be wearing this instead of me?”

  “No.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Now put it on.”

  I took the helmet. I could argue, but I knew when it came to my safety, he wouldn’t budge. He was a lot like Dad in that respect. Once again, the niggling doubt that said he’d been sent here by my father to befriend me came to mind. I shoved it down as best I could. Finn hadn’t given me any reason to suspect him. Just because the past hadn’t worked out so well for me didn’t mean history was repeating itself.

  After shoving the helmet over my head, I climbed on behind him and held on tight. The whole ride to the soup kitchen, I went over all the different ways he’d proved he wasn’t Dad’s lackey. He’d kissed me—which Dad would never allow. Taken me surfing—which Dad would hate. Driven me around on his bike—which Dad would flip his shit over. And he was…Finn.

  There was no way Dad would send a guy who looked like Finn to protect me unless he was blind, dumb, and stupid. Or incredibly naïve.

  We turned into the parking lot, and he shut off the bike. I removed the helmet and handed it to him, but he was too busy scanning our surroundings as if the Big Bad Wolf lurked in the shadows or something. I nudged him with the helmet and he took it without taking his eyes off the people around us. “I don’t like this setting.”

  I followed his gaze, but saw nothing out of place. A man in tattered clothing sat on the ground outside the door, but he looked harmless. Hungry, but harmless. A woman leaned against the wall a few feet past him, watching us. Her face was filthy, but her eyes seemed kind. “Don’t be a hypocrite. These people just need food.”

  Finn looked at me again. His face softened and he cupped my cheek. I liked it when he did that, but I had to remember it meant nothing to him. Not like it did to me. “Your kindness might be the death of you.”