Fair Game (The Rules #1) (9 page)

“Perfect.” The relief in his voice is unmistakable. “You do giftwrapping?”

“We have a nice gift box I can put it in but it’ll cost extra.” I lead him back to the sales counter where I start ringing him up. He flashes a black American Express card and I take it from him, our fingers grazing, causing a tingle to shoot up my arm.

“Cost doesn’t matter,” he says, acting like he wasn’t affected by our touching at all. Jerk. I wish I could be that nonchalant. But no, my fingers are shaking as I hit the buttons on the cash register, then have to punch in all the info on the credit card machine. All while Shep watches me, drumming those long, blunt-nailed fingers on the glass countertop. His scent wraps all around me, that citrusy, earthy smell I’m slowly becoming addicted to.

“Must be nice,” I murmur under my breath, reaching under the counter to pull out a few sheets of tissue paper. I carefully peel off the price tag on the bottom of the candle and then wrap it, securing it with a single piece of tape.

“It usually is. Unless I’m dealing with a stubborn female who refuses to pay back her debt.”

I lift my head, glaring at him. “I don’t owe you anything. I never agreed to that bet. Joel did.”

“And you’re his girlfriend,” he points out.

“
Ex-
girlfriend,” I stress, turning my back to him so I can grab the gift box I charged him five dollars extra for. Screw it. I padded his shipping charge too. Enid will be thrilled. Business has been slow lately and she’s thankful the weather has finally turned, bringing back the tourists. “I wish you would just leave this alone.” I start to put the box together.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Clearly,” I say with a little snort.

“Maybe I want to see you even more.” He pauses. “Maybe you’re all I think about.”

My fingers fumble over the box, sending it flying off the counter onto the ground. I hear him come toward me, see his feet encased in very expensive looking Nikes appear next to me as he bends down at the same time I do, the both of us going for the slightly crumpled box. “There is no reason whatsoever for you to keep thinking about me.” My cheeks are on fire I’m so embarrassed. This is stupid. I shouldn’t let him get to me like this. He’s just saying these things to get under my skin and it’s working.

“Despite how much you hate me, I keep thinking about you.” He hands over the box and I take it from him with numb fingers. “A lot.”

“Like how you want to murder me with your bare hands?” I twist the box within my grip, mangling it further. I owe him a new one. Good thing I overcharged.

“I’d rather do something a lot more fun to you with my bare hands,” he whispers, his mouth curving into the slightest smile.

For once, I’ve got nothing. My throat is dry, my heart rate is going triple time and I’m feeling more than a little overwhelmed at his simple words. “You don’t mean it.”

“I definitely do.” His gaze drops to the box in my hands. “I think we’ll need a new one.”

We both come to a full stand together, my head just reaching his shoulder. Perfect height for me to tear off his shirt and run my mouth all over his hot, hard skin. “You’re right,” I say weakly. “Let me put together another one.”

He says nothing as I trash the first box and put together the second one with even shakier hands. But I succeed in getting it in place and I settle the candle inside, sealing it before I grab a label and take down his mother’s address.

I’m not acknowledging what he said. I’m not acknowledging what I’m thinking either. This is all a big mistake. If I even consider pursuing this…thing between us, I know he’ll just use me up and spit me out. I don’t want to risk it. I’m not a risky person. I hedge safe bets. Hell, I usually don’t bet at all. I test the waters, test them again, then test them yet again before I finally jump in.

Shep is a
jump in without a thought
type of guy. I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…

“Go out with me tonight.”

“Okay.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, which just makes him laugh. Jerk. Smug, gorgeous, hot as hell jerk.

“No taking it back,” he says once his laughter dies. Those dark eyes of his go even darker if that’s possible. “You’re mine tonight, Jade.”

“Wh-what exactly do you have planned?” I clear my throat, hating how nervous I sound. The man unnerves me like no other.

“Don’t know yet,” he answers, not sounding bothered by his lack of planning at all. “I’m sure it’ll be something amazing though.”

For once, I don’t plan on calling him out for his arrogance. I’m actually finding it attractive, which I would never admit to him. “Want to meet here? I get off work at five.”

“I am a true gentleman, Jade. I refuse to meet you anywhere.” He smiles. “I’ll come pick you up.”

“And let you see where I live? I don’t think so.” I shake my head.

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Really? You’re still on the Shep is a stalker kick? Because I can reassure you, I am definitely not.”

“Fine.” I blow out an exasperated breath. He’s relentless. Or I just easily give in when it comes to him. “Hand me your phone.”

He does so, purposely touching me again. And there’s that spark again, too. Yikes. I start to add my name and phone number to his contacts but hesitate. Should I give him my number?

You so want to. Give it up girl.

I enter my phone number then my address and hand the phone back to him. He takes it, frowning at my entry before he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “You live in the dorms?”

I shrug. “I’m a freshman. Kelli and I are roommates.”

“Your friend at the party last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Your friend you were sitting with at the poker game?”

I nod.

“How old are you anyway?”

“Nineteen.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, my go-to defensive pose. He does the same thing, mirroring me right down to the way I’m standing, one foot sort of cocked out. “Do you have a problem with that?” I ask coolly.

He smiles and shakes his head, dropping his arms back to his sides. “None whatsoever. I don’t discriminate. Age is nothing but a number.”

I roll my eyes. “What time will you pick me up?” I ask.

“I’ll text you later and let you know.” He starts toward the front door and I stare, unabashedly admiring that long legged stride of his, the easy way he moves. It’s almost overwhelming, how hot he is.

And he’s definitely, outrageously hot.

“You didn’t give me your number,” I shout at him as he opens the door, his broad back still to me.

“I’ll give it to you in a minute,” he answers from over his shoulder before he leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

I plop down into the chair behind the counter and let out a harsh breath, resting my hand over my chest. My heart is racing and I swear I’m lightheaded, all from our little encounter.

So crazy. He shouldn’t affect me this way. I shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t matter. But somehow, someway, he does. He’s wormed himself into my brain and I can’t stop thinking about him. Apparently he feels the same way.

Weird.

My phone beeps and I pull it out of my pocket, unable to stop the smile that curves my lips.

Here’s your text. And my number.

I decide to answer him.

Promise you won’t stalk me?

Promise.

A pause.

But I can’t promise I won’t become obsessed with you…

Another pause. Another message.

Because I think that might be already happening.

“Y
ou mean to tell me he’s coming here to pick you up and take you out? On an actual
date?
” Kelli curls her lip into an undeniable smirk. “Wow. Shep Prescott doesn’t date, you know. Ever.”

I roll my eyes, trying to tell my overactive stomach to calm down. It’s like there are a million little baby tap dancers inside of me, kicking the shit out of my guts and making me hopelessly, horribly nervous. “What do you mean?”

Of course, he dates. He’s known to go through girls, one after the other. He has a man-whore reputation. Pretty much every girl on campus wants to drop her panties for him or one of his equally gorgeous friends. It’s sort of irritating, how easily I fell under his spell. Because he definitely knows how to cast one. I was so incredibly irritated when I saw him in the shop. Irritated and intrigued.

My irritation quickly turned to pleasure. Awareness. So much damnable awareness and chemistry and whatever else you call it that brewed between us. I could feel it. Did he feel it? He had to. He’s the one who asked me to go out with him.

Though maybe he’s doing it because supposedly he won me in a bet and he thinks I’m easy prey. Or more like an easy lay.

Nope. Not going to fall for that. I will not end up naked with him tonight. No. No. No.

And now I can’t help but wonder what he looks like naked.

“He hooks up but doesn’t steadily date any of them. Sounds like you might be an exception.” Kelli sounds surprised.

Hmm. So am I. I shouldn’t read too much into what she’s saying. This is probably just a hookup. “He claims I owe him a date. All because of that stupid bet. I could kill Joel.”

“Right. Kill your now ex-boyfriend for getting you the opportunity to date Shep? That bet might be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“Please.” I wave a hand. “I’m pissed that I have to go out with him. Trust me.”

A skeptical eyebrow is raised, one that tells me Kelli’s about to call me out on my shit. “Seriously? Do you really think I’m going to believe that?”

I’m trying my best to believe it, so I hope she does too. “I may as well get this over with.” I go to my tiny closet and start thumbing through the clothes, pushing through the hangers, one after another. I have nothing good to wear. Nothing pretty and new or flirty and sexy. Not that I want to flirt or look sexy.

You so do.

Okay, fine I do. I want to knock stupid sexy Shep on his ass when he takes one look at me but how? “I have nothing to wear,” I moan.

Kelli magically appears at my side, pushing me out of the way so she can have a go at the pitiful offerings in my closet. “Too bad you wore that cute shirt last night. I’d suggest you wear it again but it’s too soon.”

No way would I wear it. I’d felt too exposed last night in it. I remember the way Shep looked at me. His eyes hot, seeming to see everything, all of me and making me shivery…

“How about this?” Kelli interrupts my thoughts, holding out a cute little black dress I wore to a holiday party last Christmas.

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s way too much. I’m not going to prom.”

Kelli huffs out a breath. “But what if he’s taking you to some fancy dinner? He might, considering he’s filthy rich and can afford just about anything he wants. Did he tell you what you’re doing tonight? Where you’re going? And who goes out on a Sunday night anyway? Don’t you have class in the morning?” Kelli asks as she shoves the dress back into my closet.

“What are you, my mother? And no, he didn’t tell me where we’re going.” He didn’t tell me much of anything beyond saying that he might become obsessed with me.

Talk about crazy. Is that some sort of line he’s trying to use so he can get in my panties? Maybe, because come on. Shep Prescott obsessed with me?