On Paper (13 page)

The doors opened to the busy lobby and Keaton took my hand in his as he weaved us through the crowds. He waved and smiled to people who acknowledged him, but he didn't stop to talk. Eventually we made it through the front doors and out of the hotel.

"I thought we could go somewhere away from the hotel, it will be quieter," he suggested. "Are you cold? Do you want to walk or grab a cab?" he asked.

"Let's walk," I suggested. I had no idea where we were going, but this city was amazing and while there were lots of hills I didn't mind walking along its streets. There was so much character here.

As we walked we talked about our plans for the day. I had some cool reader events that Lily and I had wanted to check out and he had reserved some time to write.

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked finally after we'd been walking for awhile.

"Mama's," he smiled.

"Is that a restaurant?" I asked.

"I hear it is a must, long lines, crazy waits. I figured we had to check it out," he said. I liked that I was going to get to check something off of a “must see list” with him.

He was right, the line was long but I didn't mind having to wait. The air was crisp, just the way I liked it. While we waited he peppered me with more random questions, like what my favorite breakfast food was or how I took my coffee. It was silly, all of the things he kept filing away, but I liked it. I'd never been one to talk about myself, typically I was the one asking questions. But there was something about the way that he asked them and the boyish smile he'd get when he liked one of my answers that made me want to keep playing his game.

Mama's was awesome. It was small inside, with tables close together and a hum of activity and conversation. I could see why there had been a line, seating was limited, but as we took our seats and I stole a glance at the menu I realized that food looked spectacular.

"Momlettes," I mused reading over the menu.

"I don't know what to choose," Keaton muttered as he weighed the options.

Finally we each chose an omelet, picking different ones with a promise to share.

"This place is cool. You’re becoming quite the tour guide," I said as I poured some cream into my coffee.

"I'm glad you came. It's a nice way to start my day," he smiled as he stirred his own cup of coffee. He did it slowly, holding my gaze as he did. It was distracting. He was constantly stealing my attention.

"I get the feeling that this isn't a normal thing for you. Taking girls out for breakfast," I teased. He laughed and shrugged, choosing not to confirm. "Especially when there wasn't some sort of overnight lead in," I mused.

"I wonder if you will always think so highly of me," he smiled. I watched it crinkle his eyes so I knew he wasn't offended, only amused.

"It's not that. I'm just curious," I said sipping my coffee.

"Of my breakfast habits?" he asked.

"Why you are here with me? Does it go against your rules?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

"I have rules?" he asked. He was enjoying this line of questioning; watching me try to unravel the layers of him.

I shrugged, "I bet you do. Most playboys do," I teased.

The sound of his deep laughter warmed me through and I couldn't help the wide smile that it left behind.

"You have got to stop calling me that," he laughed.

"Because you don't see yourself that way?" I asked

"It makes me sound like I should be wearing a smoking jacket," he laughed. I smiled at the visual. "I'm not nearly as cool as you think I am. On a normal day I’m lucky if I see another human being. Most of the time I don’t even shower. How does that fit into your theory?" he asked, the corners of his mouth teasing.

I studied his face and I couldn’t help but smile at the image he painted. Somehow I imagined even in that state of disarray he would be stunning. Even if he spoke gibberish, that face could still charm the pants of any hot blooded woman. You add in the confident demeanor and that sexy voice attached to smooth words and there really was no hope for anyone when he turned it on. Case in point. I was sitting here mooning over him against my better judgment. It was probably better that he locked himself away most days.

“I never said I thought you were cool. I only implied it was the perception,” I pointed out, my smile playful even as I tried to hold it back.

“Oh, of course, my mistake,” he said.

“I’ll let it slide.” His eyes held mine and his gaze felt heavy and warm.

"You want to know why? Why I'm sitting here with you?" he asked, leaning in as if to let me in on a secret.

I nodded, ignoring the way it was nearly impossible to swallow.

His smile lifted and he reached across the table to take my hands in his. "I like you, Quinn," he said simply. I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. He turned my hand over, placing a kiss on my palm and returned it to the table. I watched as he leaned back and took a sip of his coffee.

"That's it?" I asked.

"Isn't that enough? Trust me when I say, I don't like a lot of people," he mused.

That made me laugh. "I like you too," I admitted.

"Finally, I win her over," he said.

"I'm trying something new," I smiled.

"Me?" he teased.

"Sort of,” I admitted.

“Explain,” he said.

“Trying to do something because I want to do it and not because it makes sense," I clarified.

His brow furrowed, "I don't make sense?"

"Not really. Not in the real world anyway," I said. He waited for me to continue, obviously intrigued.

"I'm a logical person. I plan things, I make lists. I try to think three steps ahead so I'm not surprised by anything. It's not the best plan of attack sometimes, but it's how I've always been. But, here, with you, I like being surprised. So, I figure that this week, while I'm on vacation, I can try and let all that other stuff go and just see what happens," I said.

"So you're just trying it on?" he asked.

"Sort of," I admitted.

"And what happens when the week is over? You go back to logic?"

"Look, I know the deal. When this week is over I will probably never see you again. You'll go back to your life and I'll go back to mine. But when I look back at this week, I want to look back and know that I lived it. That I didn't get hung up on details that caused me to press pause and miss out on something really amazing. Does that make sense?" I asked.

"So, you know that this is only about this week? You're not expecting anything more from it?" he asked levelly.

"I'm not naive, Keaton. I like you. I like spending time with you. If I get to do more of that this week, it would be great. But I'm not expecting anything past that. I know we have an expiration date," I said, happy that my voice came out sounding strong and unwavering.

I thought I caught him flinch a little, but before I could question my words, he was smiling again, staring at me with that thoughtful expression.

"So, you plan on seeing me more," he asked.

I shrugged, "Maybe."

"Well then, if we only have a week, we should probably make the most of it," he smiled, and the mischief that found his eyes excited me, filling me with that sense of freedom again.

I WAS FINDING
it difficult to concentrate on my day. My head was clearly in the clouds. Instead of listening to a panel about blogging I was remembering the look on Keaton’s face at breakfast.

This was bad.

It was so good.

Lily wanted to go dancing, so she had suggested that the four of us go out tonight. I just wanted to spend more time with Keaton, so I’d agreed. The tables had turned. I’d catch myself questioning my sanity, trying to reason how I had changed my mind about him so suddenly, but I quickly squashed it. One week. I’d given myself one week. No questions. No reasons. No logic. This was about what I wanted to do right now, without second guessing tomorrow. Today I wanted to dance with Keaton Harris. Tomorrow could wait.

"Quinny, are you coming or are you going to sit here until the next one starts?" I looked up at her confused and only then realized that people were clearing out of the room while I stared blankly ahead.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I grabbed my stuff up and stood. She was smirking at me, fighting back the laugh that showed all over her face anyway.

"I'm quite enjoying this side of you," she teased.

"Shut up," I said, slapping my hand on the notebook she held and sending it to the floor in a childish act of retaliation. I walked towards the door, her laughter echoing behind me.

"You want to skip out early and go get ready now? I'll curl your hair if you want," she said falling into step beside me.

I felt the smile tug at my lips, "Let's go."

I'D NEVER REALLY
been much for dancing or clubs; too much activity, too much noise. But tonight it was all different. Tonight I was lost in the experience. The music pulsed in the air around me, vibrating through my entire body. The crowd on the dance floor moved together in a sea of chaos and sweat. It, along with the three shots of tequila I'd had, made it a heady experience.

But all of that faded away when his eyes were on me. Keaton commanded my full attention. Tonight I was in his world and with his protective hand on my waist, pulling me closer, guiding me through the crowd, I was up for anything. He dared me to let go of insecurities and for once I wanted to shed all of my inhibitions. That's what he did to me. It surprised me how much I liked it.

The music seamlessly transitioned from song to song, each beat bleeding into the next. My feet were tired, but I didn't care. Besides, I felt pretty confident that he'd catch me if I fell. The way he stared down at me had me considering testing the theory.

There was sweat on his brow, the hair around his face damp with exertion. He was sexy as sin and it was making me imagine what his sweat slick skin would feel like sliding against my own. It made my stomach clench with sweet anticipation as flashes of fantasy flitted though my brain. I felt the heat spread throughout my body and hoped my flush would be covered by the exertion of dancing.

I watched as his eyes furrowed and then his tongue skated across his lower lip. "Are you having dirty thoughts about me, Ms. Ryan?" He startled me with his abrupt question. My eyes went wide as I searched for a good comeback.

"You wish."
Lame
. His eyes lit, amused as he moved in closer, pulling me to him with strong arms. I loved his arms; I especially loved the way his skin felt beneath my fingers as I rested my hands on his biceps.

"You have no idea how much I wish," he agreed, his mouth against my ear. How he could caress my entire body with his voice alone was a special talent. I saw clearly why girls were ready to do anything he asked. He commanded attention and being the object of that attention, of that intense focus was powerful. I wondered if he knew the full extent of his charm. Probably. He used it too well not to be fully in control of it.

"You're dangerous," I said unexpectedly, the thought out before I could filter it.

"I know," he said. No apologies.

The music thumped around us and we moved together. His arms remained fixed around me and the heat of his body left me feeling needy. His hand moved to push a strand of hair from my face and rested against my cheek. He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. I watched as he lowered his face in slow motion. The people around me faded away. I forgot to move to the music. I could only concentrate on him, and his mouth as it descended to my own. My body sagged against his as I gave into what I'd been craving all night. His tongue slipped past my lips and his hand moved to grip the back of my neck, holding me steady and taking me completely under his spell. I gave myself over to him not caring about who was watching or what they thought. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted his hands on every part of my body whether that be here or in some dingy bathroom stall, I didn't really care.

When he stepped back and I could see it in his eyes, he wanted the same thing. "Let's get out of here," he said roughly.