Down for Her by Melissa Chambers (best electronic book reader .txt) 📕

“Definitely,” I say, nodding and looking around. I meet his gaze and he grins at me and then looks away. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, drumming his fingers on his cup.

I pull back from him. “Seriously, what?”

He drops his posture. “I just really want to kiss you, but now I can’t ’cause you’ll think I brought you here to hook up.”

I point at him. “See, I knew you brought me here for that.”

He laughs. “I did not. I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn’t argue, but—”

I smash a throw pillow into his face and he snags it from me. “I’m just teasing. I don’t even want to kiss you,” he says. “Gross.”

I feign shock. “Gross?”

“Yeah.” He shudders. “Girls. Yuck.”

I set my cup down in a holder and then pinch at his stomach.

“Quit it,” he says, chuckling.

I hike a leg over his lap so I’m straddling him. “Gross? Really?”

He smooths a lock of my hair over my ear. “Completely.”

I shake my head at him, and as I’m leaning in for a kiss, an alarm sounds in my brain, and I pull away and sit down beside him. “I meant to tell you I got a new job—a temporary one, but still.”

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a hard breath. “Yeah?”

“At the business office. Something about an outreach initiative.”

“That’s cool,” he says, but his brow is furrowed. “How did that come about?”

This is the part I don’t want to answer, but I need to. “Jack got the gig for me.”

He turns toward me, his relaxed body language gone. “When did you see him?”

“He came to the pool earlier today.”

Brett turns his head away from me, looking out at the ocean through a window.

“I know you’re not a fan, but Jack’s been really helpful to me. If he’s a psycho or he’s a terrible guy who’s going to hurt me professionally, please let me know that and give me specifics. Otherwise, I could really use his help.”

He inhales a sharp breath and then releases it, taking a drink of his tea. He swallows, looking down at the cup. “Just watch your back with him, okay?”

“So to be clear, he’s not a serial killer?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “That doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole.”

“An asshole, I can deal with. But for the record, he’s been nothing but nice to me.”

“Of course he has. You’re hot.”

I let my head drop to the side. As much as my girl parts do a happy dance at this statement coming from Brett, I’m not apt to buy it a hundred percent. I lift an eyebrow. “He’s being nice. He’s not even hit on me once.”

“Just wait. It’s coming.”

“Is it so hard for you to believe that someone would just want to be helpful with no ulterior motive?”

He points at his own chest. “I thought I did help you.”

“You did, and you’ve been fantastic. But why are you pissed at him for helping me the way he knows how?”

“Because he’s trying to sleep with you.”

“He is not.”

“He is.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of girls who’d be more than happy to sleep with him. There’s nothing so special about me that he needs to go to these kinds of lengths.”

I can see by the look on Brett’s face that I’ve just screwed up epically. He turns away from me, shaking his head. “I knew it,” he says under his breath.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m sure you’re wrong.”

“Go on,” he says, motioning with his cup. “Go out with him. See what all the fuss is about.”

I squeeze his leg, reminded of the fragility of the male ego, even for a guy as handsome and confident as Brett is. “I don’t want to go out with him.”

He looks at me like he’s trying to gauge my honesty.

Because of what I’ve just gone through with Joshua, putting myself out there is tough. But Brett’s vulnerability emboldens me. I may be making a stupid mistake, but there’s something trustworthy about him that makes me want to take that leap. “In case I’ve been too subtle,” I say, “I’m interested in you.”

He gives me a skeptical look. “Yeah?”

I giggle. “Yeah. I’d even like you to kiss me right now.”

He sets his cup down and then takes my hand. “What if I maybe brought you here with the intention of doing just that?”

“I’d say that sounds kind of fun.”

He leans in and our lips meet. My core lights up as his hand rests on my hip, his thumb rubbing on the tiny spot of exposed skin on my stomach. It’s unbelievable that one touch can wake me up so wholly from a nap I feel like I’ve been in for years. His hand grips my hip as our kiss becomes intense, and my body comes alive in that way that’s so exciting but terrifying at the same time. I pull away to get ahold of myself.

He smiles at me, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I haven’t met anyone like you in a long time. Maybe ever.”

I think of him on the beach that night, leaned into that girl’s ear, whispering something to her that was probably very close to what he just said to me. “How am I different?” I ask, because I really want to know what separates me from her and all the others.

“I don’t know,” he says, looking down at his hand, which is sliding around my thigh. “You’re genuine. You seem to be your own authentic self at all times. Some girls aren’t like that. They’re on the chase. They’re all about the catch and release. I feel like I’m in a game, not a relationship. Whoever blinks first gets their heart broken.”

“I don’t play that game,” I say, my voice coming out quiet and serious.

He thinks for a moment, staring at the ground. “I’m not playing a game either, but I’m also not in a place to be in a