Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(16)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“Please,” I scoffed. “Do you really think they passed Daddy’s test?”

He flinched. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse. I stopped trying after tenth grade.”

“What about in Europe?”

“Not a chance.” I tightened my grip on his hand. “I had security with me the whole time. I met a cute Italian boy while I was there, but that was it.”

His thumb stroked the back of my hand. “Ciao, bella.”

“You speak Italian?”

“Nope. That’s all I know,” he admitted, laughing. Dropping my hand, he stopped at the coffee stand and propelled me forward with a hand splayed across my lower back. “Ladies first.”

My cheeks went all hot, and my body all tingly. From a simple touch. “Uh, a nonfat iced mocha, please.”

“I’ll have a black coffee,” he said, smiling at the barista.

The barista almost dropped the cup in her hand, then dipped her head low. I rolled my eyes, but realized I probably looked that stupid around him half of the time. I shook my head. “Don’t you ever branch out? Try something new?”

He eyed me from under his shades. “I like my coffee black.”

“Did you ever get a mocha or a latte?”

“Nope.” He shuddered. “I don’t drink girly coffee.”

“It’s not girly. Besides, if you’ve never had it, then you can’t know that you don’t like it.” I headed for the end of the counter. His hand stayed on my back, as if he didn’t want to let me go. And I didn’t want him to let me go. I pulled a twenty out of my bikini top and handed it to the cashier. It had actually stayed dry.

“Because I know.” He cleared his throat. “Did you seriously just take money out of your bra to pay?”

“It’s not a bra. It’s a bikini.” I shot him a grin over my shoulder. “But yeah. Strippers do it, why not surfers?”

He grabbed my coffee and handed it to me. “Did you know two out of six dollar bills have been shoved down a stripper’s G-string at one point in time?”

“No.” I shuddered. “Thanks for that.”

I dropped all the ones I’d gotten back into the tip jar and walked toward our bench. Our surfboards still sat there. God, I loved California. In D.C., they would have been gone within seconds. I could get used to this place. Used to the way of life. Especially the cute surfer boys who came with it.

“So, you ready for school to start tomorrow?” he asked, blowing on his coffee as he sat down beside me.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I held out my drink and pressed my straw to his lips. “Take a sip.”

He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “No.”

“For me?”

His eyes flashed. “You don’t play fair.”

“I’m the daughter of a politician. What did you expect?”

“Touché.” He leaned in, closed his lips around the straw, and took a sip. When he pulled back, he swallowed. “It’s not too bad, I guess, but I’ll stick with my black coffee.”

“Hm.” I lifted the cup to my own lips and sipped. I couldn’t help but think that my lips were where his had just been. I wished he would kiss me again. Wished he would stop being all honorable and stuff. As I pulled back, I flicked my tongue over the tip of the straw. “Tastes good to me.”

He leaned in, his gaze on my mouth. I held my breath, waiting to see what he would do. Waiting to see if he’d stop fighting and start kissing, but he froze a few breaths away from me. “It’s okay.” He leaned back against the bench and took a long swig of his coffee. “So, what else are you doing today, Ginger?”

Hello, change of topic. “I have this thing,” I mumbled.

He sat forward. “What thing?”

“Does it matter?”

His gaze pinned me down. Made it hard to concentrate. “Yes. Friends tell each other their plans.”

“What are yours?”

“I’m going to lay around in my boxers and watch TV all night. Maybe drink a few beers.” He pointed at me with his coffee. “Your turn.”

I was too busy picturing him in his boxers to fight him. “I’m going to the soup kitchen to help serve Sunday dinner.”

He paused with his cup halfway to his lips. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I took a long sip of coffee, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “It’s important to give back to the community.”

He set his coffee down and cupped my chin with his thumb and finger. “You’re one amazing woman. You know that, right, Ginger?”

The nickname that had once annoyed me sent shivers through my veins now. “Not really. I’m just a college girl.”

“Most college students are too busy partying to care about feeding the poor.”

“I’ve gotta share what I can.” I shrugged. “It’s only right. Karma and all that.”

He pressed his lips together, seeming to be stopping himself from saying something. “I’m going with you. I want to help.”

“You don’t have to,” I protested, even though my whole body quickened at the thought of spending more time with him. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I know you will.” He brushed his thumb over my lip. “But I want to go with you.”

“All right,” I said breathlessly. “Wanna pick me up on the bike at six?”

He laughed. “I created a beast with that thing, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” I stood up, tossed out my empty coffee and grabbed my surfboard. “I’ll be waiting. Don’t be late.”

Chapter 8

It was almost time to meet up with Finn, so I hurried down the stairs, my heart beating a little bit faster than usual. After I warned him not to be late, there was no way I could be late myself. He’d never let that slide. As I passed the last dorm in my hallway, a girl came out and grabbed my wrist. “Hey, you the one who put all those designer clothes in the communal room?”

“Uh, no.” Well, crap. I didn’t think anyone had seen me earlier. I tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The girl adjusted her top. The top I had put in a box for others to take a few hours ago. “Darn. I could’ve sworn they said it was the redhead in 123.”

Well, there went my career as a super spy. I had tried to be sneaky about it, but I couldn’t help but share some of the clothes my mom constantly sent me with the other people in my dorm. I mean, why not? I’d seen and heard how some of the students didn’t have much money for clothes…and I had too many. That’s all. “Nope. Wrong room.”