Actually, something feels very wrong with that statement. Again, what the hell is wrong with me?
Maybe that’s why I can’t get off my * ass and go introduce myself to her. Sitting up there on that rock, she’s perfect to me. If I go over there, I’ll only end up tainting that perfection, ruining it.
Spoiling pretty things is a gift of mine. It’s a Gunner family trait.
“We’re just going to grab some dinner,” Max says. “You wanna come?”
I turn around, pressing my back against the sun-warmed railing. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m gonna go for a run.”
Am I? I guess I could go for a run. I could go for a jog along the beach. Maybe speak to a little hottie seated up on a rock…
“And would that run take you past a certain blonde over there?” Max jerks his chin in Rock Girl’s direction.
I lift my shoulders, shrugging at him.
He shakes his head at me. “What the hell is going on with you, Gunner? Why haven’t you just talked to her already? It’s been a fucking week.”
I flicker a glance at Darcy, who has this sudden sour look on her face, and now, she’s staring out past me in Rock Girl’s direction.
Yeah, not going to happen, Darcy.
I strike a glance at Max. I love the guy like a brother, but I wish he hadn’t said that shit in front of Darcy. She has a big mouth, and I don’t want to get a rep here in Malibu for being a * who can’t even talk to a girl.
“Nothing’s wrong with me. Maybe I just don’t want to talk to her.”
I really do. I want to talk her straight into my bed.
“Yeah, sure you don’t want to talk to the super hot girl, Gunner.” Max rolls his eyes at me.
“How do you know she’s super hot?” The words are out before I can stop them.
As far as I know, Max hasn’t seen her up close, not that I have actually seen her up close. Just the quick glimpses of her as she’s walked past here. But the glimpses I have gotten, I’ve liked—a lot.
A shit-eating grin spreads across Max’s face. “Because I talked to her yesterday.”
“You talked to her?” My voice has suddenly gotten weirdly higher.
Why the hell did Max talk to Rock Girl? And why is he only just now telling me this?
He lets out a prolonged deep chuckle. “Yeah, I did. When you went in to shower after your little hour-long hot-girl gazing session, I decided to go for a swim. And your little hottie came back, as she’d left something up on that rock she sits on. A fucking pencil or something. Seemed important to her.” He shrugs. “Anyway, after she found this pencil and was climbing back down off the rock, she dropped her bag, spilling her stuff everywhere. Being the gentleman that I am, I helped her pick things up—tampons, lipstick. You know, girl things.” He grins.
I lift my eyes to the sky.
Gentleman, my ass.
Max wouldn’t know a gentleman if one actually came up and smacked him across the face. Not that I would either, but that’s not the point. The point is, Max talked to my Rock Girl.
My Rock Girl? When did she become mine?
“She seems nice. And she’s really hot, bro,” he goes on. “I did consider asking her out myself, but I didn’t want to break your little stalker heart.”
“Hey!” Darcy screeches, swatting him on the arm.
“Only kidding, babe.” He gives her that smooth grin of his that all the chicks fall for. “I mean, why would I ask her out when I’ve got you?”
He pats her on the arm, pacifying her, and the second she looks away, he smirks at me.
Bastard.
He’d have asked Rock Girl out even if Darcy was riding cowgirl on his cock at the time.
Nothing stops Max when it comes to a woman he wants. He’s like me, in that respect—well, apart from Rock Girl. Because, out of the two of us, I’m apparently the one without the balls to go speak to her.
“You’re a bastard, you know,” I say, fighting a smile.
“Takes a bastard to know a bastard.” His grin gets bigger.