Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
A gentle smile tugged at my lips. “Nope. I was just admiring how pretty you are.”
“Funny,” Rhys said, and I realised he thought I was being sarcastic.
“You don’t agree that you’re pretty?” I questioned curiously.
His brows drew together. “Is this some kind of Mean Girls trap?”
I chuckled, surprised he’d seen the movie. “I promise I’m not trying to Regina George you. Scout’s honour.”
He blew out a breath. “In that case, no, I’ve never considered myself pretty.”
“Handsome, then?”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his voice quiet when he responded, “No, not that either.”
“Well, I think you are.”
“You might need glasses,” he muttered.
“Hey,” I frowned, pressing pause on the game and setting my controller aside. “Don’t do that, okay? This world is full of people who’ll put us down. We don’t need to do it to ourselves, too.”
Rhys put his controller down then ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. Sorry.” He lifted his gaze, those mesmerising blue eyes meeting mine. “Thank you for the compliment, Charli.”
“Much better, and you’re welcome. Also, feel free to return the favour.”
A faint smile curved his lips as his attention ran over me. It was friendly at first, but his expression turned more serious, his eyes hooded as they traced a path over my nose, cheeks, eyes and lips. My skin heated, and I wondered if my light-hearted flirting had given me more than I’d bargained for when they then travelled along the bare skin at my collarbone. I wore a loose, V-neck sweater. It dipped low, showing a hint of cleavage.
I noticed Rhys’ throat bob on a hard swallow, his voice gruffer than before when he said, “You have nice … skin.” A long pause ensued before he winced and continued, “Sorry, that was a weird thing to say. I didn’t mean … um, your eyes. You have very pretty eyes, Charli.”
My heart warmed at his awkward embarrassment while my stomach whirled at him telling me I had nice skin and pretty eyes. “It wasn’t weird. And thank you,” I replied, mustering a smile even though the way he looked at me had my pulse hammering. “I get my tan from my dad. Italian genes.”
“Your dad was Italian?”
“Hence the last name, Moretti. He was an amazing man. My best friend. We used to love cooking together; though, one time, when I was ten, I mistakenly put salt instead of sugar into a cake recipe. Not sure he ever forgave me for that.” I laughed fondly.
“Sounds like a good memory.” Something sad passed behind his eyes.
“It is,” I replied gently and wondered if he was thinking about his own father, their troubled relationship. Or at least what I suspected was a troubled relationship. I suddenly wished I hadn’t brought up my dad, especially if it only functioned to remind Rhys of whatever problems his family were going through.
“What happened at the party after I left last night?” I asked to change the subject, my voice deceptively casual.
“Other than the worst planned prank in history, you mean?” Rhys replied wryly before picking up a paprika flavoured cracker and shoving it in his mouth.
“Yes,” I winced. “Other than that. And sorry for the reminder.”
“It’s fine. At least in future I can avoid any involvement in pranks masterminded by Tristan,” he said with a hint of humour.
“Sounds like a firm plan,” I agreed.
Rhys shrugged his shoulder. “Not much else happened. We just hung out.”
“Hung out” could mean a lot of things, and I was very curious about those other girls at the party. With Rhys’ self-esteem issues, they could’ve flirted with him, and it might not even have registered. Selfishly, I hoped that was the case. I hoped Rhys didn’t realise he could have any girl he wanted if he only put himself out there because then he might turn his attention elsewhere instead of spending time playing video games with me.
“So, none of the scary hot girls tried to talk to you after I left?” I prodded, immediately regretting my inability to stem my curiosity. Rhys cast me a speculative look as he ate another cracker, shaking his head.
“Thankfully, no. That would’ve been terrifying.” I could tell by his tone he was only half joking.
A laugh escaped me. “Someday soon, you’re going to look back on this and wonder how you ever found the prospect of a pretty girl talking to you scary, Rhys. Mark my words.”
He pressed his lips together and picked the controller back up. “I talk to you fine, don’t I.”
My belly flipped at the offhand statement.
Had he really just said that? I didn’t know how to respond, so I quietly resumed playing the game, too, even while a pleased smile tugged at my lips. He thought I was pretty. Not just my eyes or my skin, but all of me. He considered me on the same level as the girls from last night, which I knew I wasn’t, but still. The fact Rhys saw me that way was almost thrilling. I was going to have butterflies for days, I could tell.