“What?” She shrugs. “We need to check into our hotel. We’ll be losing a day.”
I shoot Kellan an apologetic look. “Even if we could leave, the streets are still blocked.”
“What are your plans for tonight?” Kellan asks, his gaze cemented on me.
He doesn’t want me to leave.
The realization hits me like a wall.
I shrug and look at Mandy, her attention jumping back and forth between Kellan and me, like a ping pong ball, as she’s analyzing our every move and word.
“What are your suggestions?” Mandy says. “Ava likes to go out just as much as she enjoys an evening in.” Now she sounds like she’s in a TV reality show and trying to get the guy to choose me instead of the two other desperate floozies.
“I was planning on getting to bed early. You know, catch some sleep,” I say.
Mandy shoots me a dirty look.
“What?” I mouth and frown.
“You’re a lost cause. I’m going to take a shower because I’m most certainly not staying in tonight,” she mutters and walks out. She calls over her shoulder, “And you’re not staying in either. There’s got to be something remotely exciting to do in this town. And I’ll find it, dammit.”
“I think she wants you to go out with me,” Kellan remarks, amused, as soon as a door slams down the corridor and we’re alone again.
“Yeah, she’s not very subtle at expressing her wishes.” I brush my hair out of my face and look all the way up to meet his impossibly green gaze.
That was a big mistake.
“Is there a bar somewhere around here?” I ask.
“Sure, there is. And it serves the best beer in the state.” Kellan’s arms are crossed over his chest as he regards me with that challenging flicker in his eyes.
Does he want me to go out with him?
I can’t imagine a guy like him needing someone like me to keep him company. And yet, his expression says it all.
He wants me around.
I heave an exaggerated sigh as I consider my options. I’m not afraid of being on my own, but the idea of being stuck in my room with no one to talk to isn’t exactly appealing.
Wherever Kellan’s going, there are bound to be people.
I won’t even have to sit at the same table.
Or talk to him.
I won’t even have to look at him.
Heck, I bet I can shut him out completely until I won’t even know that he’s around.
“Let’s hit it.”
His brows shoot up.
“I mean the town.” I gesture with my hand. “You know the saying.”
He shakes his head.
“Everybody knows the saying ‘let’s hit the town’,” I say. A thought occurs to me—I don’t even know how old he is. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight. I thought you would have Googled me by now,” Kellan remarks. I stare at him, unsure whether he’s joking or being serious.
Did Mandy say something? Because I swear to God his stunning green eyes are twinkling with knowledge that yes, I tried to Google him after our first encounter, even though I didn’t know his name.
“Not everyone’s obsessed with you,” I say through cringed teeth, already regretting my decision to go out with him. But I can’t go back on my word now, lest he think his words might carry a morsel of truth to them.
“Hmmm.”
That look again, like he knows more than he should and is annoyingly smug about it.
I swear to God, I’m on the verge of saying something I might come to regret to wipe that grin right off his face.
“I’ve never been obsessed with a guy, ever.”
“That is, until you met me, right?”
“No.” My tone comes out defensive, my voice conveying my annoyance because he’s so damn right. “Honestly, you could own all the nightclubs in the world, and I wouldn’t be interested.”
He shakes his head. “Like I said, you got the wrong Boyd, baby. I’m just an investor in my brother’s business.”
I look up at him to see if he’s lying. Yeah, that’s what my cheating, lying ex did to me.
Kellan keeps denying it, and his expression is honest, so it must be true.
“I’ll leave you to get dressed,” he says and heads down the corridor to his bedroom, I assume.
“What’s wrong with my jeans?” I mutter and grimace at the air.
Of course guys like Kellan like a woman all made up and probably wearing barely more than a piece of fabric to cover their modesty.
It’s what they’re used to.
If he expects me to turn into Mandy, then he’ll be thoroughly disappointed. Not in the least because I don’t own Mandy’s wardrobe…or long legs to show off. So I refrain from squeezing into clothes that will only accentuate my shortcomings.
I sigh and head for my room, where I change into a dark blue pencil skirt that reaches down to my knees and a white button-up blouse—my usual work attire. I top it all off with ankle boots and a thin jacket.
It’s all very demure.
It’s all rather suited to an office environment.
I stand back, disappointed.