Summer Fling Read online

  “I wondered if you wanted to go hang out somewhere. I brought an extra shirt for you in case you said yes.”

  “Where would we go?” Her tone of voice betrayed her surprise, but she was curious too.

  “Wherever. We could get dessert somewhere or something. I’m not ready to be home for the night.”

  “You could just drop me off at home and go back to the party.” Abby felt compelled to point that out.

  Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess. I was bored at the party, though. The friends I came with were already wasted, but I’m too picky about my booze to get drunk on crappy beer and bottom-shelf liquor. I was looking for an excuse to leave when you crashed into me.”

  Abby reached out and picked up the shirt. Staring at it in her lap, she fingered the soft blue fabric while she considered her answer. Did she want to go out with this guy she’d just met? Or would she rather go home? Since Megan was still at the party, she’d have the apartment to herself.

  “You could just take me home and let me change into one of my own shirts and then we could go out.” She looked at his face, gauging his reaction.

  Lance still faced her, his eyes locked with hers. A small smile curved his lips. “I could.” He drew the words out. “But then you might overthink it and tell me no. This way you change and we can go. Plus, there’s a twenty-four-hour diner with great pie not far from here, and I’m hungry now. It’d take too long to drive you home first.”

  Abby thought about it for another minute. “Can I at least change inside? I don’t make it a habit to flash guys I’ve just met.” Even though you’ve pretty much seen it all already. She stopped herself before she said the last part out loud.

  Lance opened his mouth like he was about to say something, a mischievous look on his face. Then he seemed to think better of it, his expression clearing. “Sure. Come on.”

  Abby followed him up the front steps, his pace less hurried than the first time. The front door opened into the living room. College guys definitely lived here. It was comfortable enough, but mostly utilitarian, with no concern for décor. A large flat screen TV dominated the wall to the right, with wires, gaming consoles, and controllers in a jumble around the small entertainment center. Battered and mismatched furniture completed the room, looking like hand me downs or thrift store finds. There were no pictures on the walls, and the curtains covering the large bay window had either come with the house or were hand-me-downs from someone’s mom.

  Lance opened a door to the left of the TV. “This is my room.” He reached in and turned on the light. “You can change in here.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  The comfortable and utilitarian theme extended into the bedroom, with a queen-sized bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bookshelf crammed with books the only furniture. Discarded clothes littered the floor between the bed and the door to the bathroom.

  Abby went into the small bathroom. It was surprisingly clean from what she knew of college guys’ bathrooms. No globs of toothpaste left in the sink, and only a few items on the small counter—hand soap, deodorant, shaving cream, aftershave lotion, and a razor. The soap sat on the edge of the sink, the other items clustered neatly in the corner next to the wall.

  Abby stripped off her tank top, dropping it on the floor. She grabbed a washcloth from a pile of mismatched towels under the sink, got a corner of it wet, and wiped up the soda that had seeped through her shirt. She slipped Lance’s T-shirt on and looked at herself in the mirror.

  She snorted when she saw the Superman logo in the middle of her chest. Well, somewhat below the middle of her chest, because the shirt swallowed her. The shoulder seams came almost halfway down her upper arms, and the shirt covered her shorts.

  She tried pulling the shirt tight around her torso, twisting the extra fabric behind her and tucking it in at the small of her back. She’d seen other girls do that and look cute. On her, she thought it just looked silly. She fidgeted with the shirt some more, folding here, tucking there, trying different things so she didn’t look like a toddler wearing her dad’s clothes. With a huff of annoyance, she gave up and let the shirt hang loose.

  “It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.” Abby reached up and redid her ponytail as she talked to herself in the mirror. “I’ve already dumped soda over both of us and treated the guy to a personal wet T-shirt contest. Worrying about making a good impression on the hot guy sort of went out the window already.”

  With that little pep talk, Abby went back out. Lance looked up from his phone and smiled at her. He stood up from the couch. “Ready?”

  “Sure.”

  Lance opened the door and gestured Abby through, locking it behind him. He jogged to catch up to her to open the car door before she got in.

  Abby gave him a confused look. What was with this guy and his insistence on opening doors? She’d agreed to get dessert with him, but it wasn’t like this was a date. He was just bored and didn’t want to be home yet. That’s what he’d said. That didn’t make this a date, right?

  Chapter Two

  Lance wasn’t sure why he’d bullied the cute little blonde girl into wearing his shirt instead of just taking her home.

  Well, yes he was. He didn’t want to just take her home and drop her off. The way she called him out on his manners and didn’t take any bullshit piqued his curiosity. The brash sarcasm didn’t quite fit with the cute girl-next-door vibe she gave off. He wanted to spend more time with her, and he was afraid that if he even took her back to her place for a clean shirt, she’d change her mind.

  He’d told her the truth when he said he’d been thinking of leaving the party when she showed up. But he’d been thinking how nice it would be to go home and hang out by himself for a while. Living with two other guys, even if they were his best friends, meant he didn’t get a lot of time to himself. Then Abby crashed into him and spilled soda all over his shirt, and his night got a lot more interesting. He’d liked the feel of her body crushed against his, her soft round tits against his chest, the feel of her skin under his palms. Until he’d registered the cold liquid seeping through his shirt. That had kind of killed the mood. At least until they could both get cleaned up.

  When she’d said she needed to find a way home, he saw an opportunity and took it.

  Now all those luscious curves were engulfed in his shirt. He’d grabbed the shirt to wear himself, but on impulse decided to bring it out for her and put on a different shirt. Something about her wearing it just struck him as incredibly sexy. Maybe it was the way it fell past her shorts so it looked like she didn’t have on anything else. Or maybe it was the fact that it was his shirt, like some caveman impulse to claim her as his. She wasn’t. Not yet. But maybe he could convince her to be for a night or two.

  He hadn’t been lying about being hungry, so the dessert thing wasn’t a made up excuse to spend more time with her. But now he wasn’t just hungry for pie. He was hungry for her.

  He wanted the chance to feel her against him again. See if he could rile her up some more and see what happened. See what would happen if—

  No. He had to stop that train of thought before his feelings became more obvious. She seemed like a no-nonsense kind of girl from their interactions at the party, and she wasn’t too sure about him. She kept shrugging him off when he touched her and maintained as much distance between them as she could without being rude. Even now she was sitting close to the passenger door. He clenched his hands around the steering wheel to keep himself from touching her again, just to see how she’d react. He didn’t want to scare her off.

  Lance glanced at her out of the corner of his eye while driving to the diner. She looked wistful, almost sad, with her arm resting on the window ledge propping up her head, and the wind whipping the little hairs around her face.

  He cleared his throat. “So, what’s your major?”

  Abby turned to look at him, her hand falling to join the other one in her lap. “Spanish. You?”

  “I just graduated. I got my de
gree in Marketing.”

  “Congratulations. So are you job hunting now?”

  Lance shook his head. “No. I have an internship for the summer, and my dad expects me to come take over the family business when that’s done.”

  “The family business, huh? That sounds like you’re in the mafia or something.” Her delivery was so deadpan he couldn’t help laughing.

  He was right about her. She didn’t hold back, and he liked her sense of humor. “No, not the mafia. Just a mechanic shop.”

  “You have a degree in marketing, and you’re supposed to go be a mechanic?” He caught her raised eyebrows to go along with the surprise evident in her tone.

  Lance grimaced. “Yeah. Every business needs marketing.” That’s what he’d told his dad to convince him that going to college was a good idea. He was supposed to go to work as a mechanic straight out of high school, but with his mom’s help, he’d convinced his dad that college would be good for him and good for the business.

  He steered the conversation back to her, not wanting to talk about what was waiting for him at the end of his internship. “What about you? What are you going to do with a Spanish degree?”

  Abby shrugged and faced the window again. He wished she would keep looking at him. How was he going to get anywhere with her if he couldn’t even hold her attention? “I don’t know. Travel, maybe. There’s lots of things where speaking two languages can help. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “I’m not sure how well traveling pays, but that sounds like fun.”

  Abby flashed him a quick grin. Good. He liked seeing her smile and smiled back. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve smiled at me tonight. I’m not used to having to work this hard to get a smile out of a girl.”

  Her smile faded. “Sorry not to meet your smiling standards.”

  Her voice was sharp, and Lance backpedaled as quick as he could. “No! That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

  She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I get it. Girls probably fall all over themselves trying to get your attention, smiling and giggling like idiots. You’re not used to a girl acting normal. Or whatever.” She turned back to the window again.

  Lance took a deep breath and decided to try again. How could he be messing this up already? “All I meant was that I like your smile. I like seeing you smile.”

  No response. Shit.

  One corner of his mouth turned up as he thought more about what she’d said. “Why do you think girls fall all over themselves to get my attention?”

  She looked at him finally—a pointed glare followed by an eye roll before she turned away again.

  The other corner of Lance’s mouth lifted, his smirk turning into a full-blown smile. “Are you trying to tell me I’m attractive?”

  Abby didn’t say anything, just kept her face steadfastly turned toward the window.

  “Well?” he pushed.

  She swiveled and rolled her eyes at him again. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Let what go?” His voice dripped with mock innocence. “You mean that you think I’m hot?”

  “I’m sure plenty of girls think you’re hot.” From her tone voice, it sounded like the statement should have been followed by a pat on the head.

  Lance decided to ignore the tone and focus on the words. “Plenty of girls like you?”

  Her eyes raked over him, checking him out. “You’re alright, I guess.”

  “Just alright, huh?” He flexed his arms as he gripped the steering wheel. He knew he was better looking than just alright. Abby’s eyes widened as his biceps bulged against his T-shirt, then she averted her gaze. It was hard to tell in the low light, but he thought she might be blushing. Lance smiled even wider, not minding a bit that she wasn’t looking at him. He decided to stop antagonizing her about that. For now.

  He turned the wheel smoothly, gravel and loose rocks crackling under his tires as he nabbed a spot close to the door of the Big Bites Diner. At almost eleven on a Saturday night, only a handful of vehicles dotted the lot. Lance held open the door for Abby, once again enjoying the way his shirt looked on her.

  Inside the familiar smell of burgers and fries greeted him. Low conversation filled the room punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter from the few occupied tables. A tired waitress grunted at them, chomping on her gum. “This way,” she said in a bored voice and walked away without making sure they’d follow. She led them to a booth next to a window, dropped the laminated menus on the table, and left without another word.

  Abby watched the waitress’s retreating back. “Such friendly service.”

  Lance’s eyes followed her gaze. “The food’s good. This place is packed during breakfast and lunch. I’m actually surprised there aren’t more people here. It’s early, though. The drunk partygoers will stumble in closer to two.”

  Abby laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone refer to eleven at night as early before.” Lance liked making her laugh as much as making her smile. He decided not to say anything, since commenting on her smile made her stop in the car, and settled for smiling back.

  The waitress returned and set two glasses of water on the table in front of them. “You ready to order?” She popped her gum and tapped her pen on the order pad.

  Abby folded her menu and slid it to the edge of the table. “I’ll have the chocolate silk pie.”

  “And I’ll have the pecan.” Lance laid his menu on top of Abby’s. The waitress scribbled down their order, took the menus, and sauntered off.

  Lance returned his attention to Abby, leaning forward on his arms and keeping his legs under his chair. For now. “Since you didn’t seem too concerned about your future job prospects, I’m guessing you’re not a senior yet.”

  Abby took a drink of her water before answering. “Not yet.”

  The glint of mischief in her blue eyes gave away that she was fully aware of what he really wanted to know, but wanted to make him work for it. Lance didn’t normally have to work this hard to get a girl to talk about herself. She’d been right that girls usually smiled and giggled and told him way more than he ever asked or wanted to know. But he found himself being the one doing the smiling and the laughing and the volunteering of information. How did she do that to him?

  After waiting a minute to see if she’d actually tell him what he wanted to know, Lance took the bait. “So what year are you?”

  “I’ll be a junior in the fall. Where are you from?”

  “Denton, Texas. You?”

  Her face registered her surprise. “Texas, huh? I figured somewhere down south from the way you talk. You’re a long way from home.”

  “How do I talk?”

  Abby cocked her head to one side, her serious expression as she studied him carefully just as adorable as her eye rolls and take-no-shit pointed glares, like she could see the evidence of his origins on his face. “Well, you called me sweetheart earlier, and people from around here don’t do that. You have a little bit of an accent, but it’s not as thick as someone from Georgia or Tennessee. Plus, you insist on opening doors for me. That’s not typical in the Northwest either.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope. So what brought you to Spokane?”

  Lance shrugged. “I figured that if I’m destined to spend the rest of my life running a mechanic shop in Denton, I ought to get out and see more of the world while I can. Plus, I got a football scholarship at Marycliff that helped pay for school.” Lance sipped his own water. “My turn now. You never answered my question. Where are you from? I’m not as good as you are at determining someone’s hometown by the way they talk and how they act.”

  Abby smiled at that. “I’m from around here. My mom lives outside of Coeur d’Alene, about forty-five minutes away.”

  It was Lance’s turn to be surprised. He figured she was from the Northwest somewhere, but didn’t realize she was still so close to home. “Why’d you decide to stay here? As a Spanish major wouldn’t you want to go somew
here where there are more Spanish speakers?”

  Abby shrugged, looking uncomfortable. The waitress arrived and plunked their slices of pie in front of each of them.

  Immediately picking up her fork, Abby took a big bite of her chocolate silk pie. “This is really good.”

  Chapter Three

  Perfect timing. Abby kept the thought to herself and her mouth full of pie so she wouldn’t have to answer. She didn’t really like to talk about the issues with her mom that kept her close to home. From the way her mother acted, you’d think Abby lived on the other side of the world rather than forty-five minutes away. And she certainly didn’t want to get into all that with Lance on this weird … whatever this was.

  She was acutely aware that she wore this random guy’s shirt. Every time she moved, the combined scent of Lance’s laundry detergent and cologne wafted up to tickle her nose. But she couldn’t tell if he was interested in her, or if he just viewed her as a convenient companion so that he didn’t have to hang out at home by himself. It didn’t make sense to her that he wouldn’t be able to find someone to hang out with if he wanted to, though.

  He was hot. That was the only word for it. His black hair was a little long, like he needed a haircut. It wasn’t all gunked up with gel or whatever like some guys did. It kept falling in his eyes, making her want to brush it back, run her fingers through it, and see if it was as soft as it looked. His eyes were a rich brown flecked with gold that lit up when he smiled. And that smile was enough to turn any girl on, which was why she kept snarking at him whenever he flashed it at her. She didn’t normally react to guys like she did to him. He was arrogant, but not douchey. Bossy, but also charming. Not at all like the nice but boring guys she normally interacted with.

  Lance was … thrilling. Challenging.

  And so much more attractive than the guys she had classes with.