The hottie with the startling purple eyes attempting to turn me down made me smile. I took a step toward her as she answered her phone…
Lana smacked me on the back of the head hard enough to make me stop. I turned around to find the girl I was sure was going to be my sister one day glowering at me.
“No.”
I couldn’t help raising a brow at her. Lord, she was gorgeous when she was serious. “No?”
“Don’t even think about it Shane Mason Stevenson!” she growled low enough that only I could hear her. “She’s isn’t your type.”
I flinched at the use of my middle name. Not even Emmie pulled that particular card on me. I never should have told her my full name! “I don’t have a type, sweetheart.”
Her brow furrowed even more. “Exactly! So keep your paws off my friend. Or I swear to all those freaking gods that Emmie prays to that I will rip off your man parts.”
Sighing, I pulled out my cellphone. “Let’s see what Drake has to say about it. Maybe he thinks I should go for it.”
I knew I was playing dirty, and the darkening of her amber eyes told me that I had scored one or two this round. “I’ll call Emmie,” she shot back.
“Emmie?” I snickered. “That all you got, sis? You telling Emmie on me?”
She glared at me for a long moment before her lips twitched and a giggle escaped her. “Okay, I guess that sounded about as mature as a six year old.” She poked me in the chest with her finger. It was hard enough to make me grimace. “Be good to Harper, mister.”
Oh, I planned on it. I was going to be very good to that mysteriously beautiful female.
Twenty minutes later found me sitting across from Harper at a diner close to her apartment. I had somehow gotten her to agree to still going to breakfast with me. She hadn’t wanted to; I’d seen the struggle in those hypnotic eyes of hers as she tried to come up with a better excuse to bail than Dallas needed her to pick up some girl products.
It was score one for me when she had finally given in. It was score one for her when she picked a place closer to her apartment than mine. Still, I found myself content to just be in her company as the morning wore on. I wasn’t bored when I was talking to her, which was strange because having a conversation with a female that wasn’t in my family just didn’t happen with me. There was only one thing that I wanted to be doing with a girl that I was attracted to, and sitting down for a chat and a meal wasn’t one of them.
It kind of felt like a date, and I was finding it hard to remember the last time I had actually been on one. It might have been when I was seventeen with some girl that I couldn’t even remember the name of. She had been particularly easy, and I had scored an hour into the date.
But this was different. I knew I was going to have to pull every trick known to man to get into this girl’s panties, and I was actually looking forward to it. For once I wanted the thrill of the chase.
Yeah, I was sure the boredom had fried my brain…
I watched her lick whipped cream off of her thumb and my brain actually shut down for a moment. Note to self: don’t let her eat anything with whipped topping unless I want an aneurysm! I could actually feel myself panting a little as I continued to watch her eat the waffles topped with the sinful cream and fruit.
She made eating look like a sexy art form. The way she cut her food into small little pieces… The way her eyes went all kinds of dreamy as she took the first bite and savored the taste on her tongue. Even the way her jaw moved in an almost seductive up and down motion as she chewed… Ah, damn!
I had to force my eyes away before she took the third bite or I was sure I was going to pull her under the table and have her then and there! I cut into my steak and eggs with jerky movements in an attempt to take my mind off her and her food. I wasn’t even sure if the food I had ordered was actually any good because I was so turned on I couldn’t taste any of it.
“So…” I took a deep swallow of my orange juice and attempted to get my body under some kind of control, half fearing I was going to come in the clothes I borrowed from Linc if I didn’t. “What made you want to become a photographer?”
“It’s something I have always been interested in. I grew up with some of the most talented photographers being a constant in my life. I would sit and watch while they worked their magic behind the lenses, taking the pictures of some really beautiful girls and making them exquisite. I knew that I was never going to be one of those girls in front of the camera, so I thought being the one behind it would be better for me.”
She spoke with such enthusiasm that I almost missed it, that soft note of hurt and the pain that darkened her purple eyes. I sat my fork and knife down and just sat there staring at the hauntingly beautiful woman in her faded cutoff shorts, plain tank, and messy bun. How in the fuck did she not know that she was beautiful enough to be in front of the camera? Why would she think something that ridiculous?
It was something I really wanted to find out, but something told me that if I asked she wouldn’t tell me. So I stored it for a later time. “You grew up with photographers? Why was that?”
“My stepsister is Ariana Calloway.”
I raised a brow because the name sounded vaguely familiar to me. “Should I be impressed?” I asked, not sure if that was the reaction she had been expecting from me.
Harper grinned. “I guess it depends on who you ask. Ariana is still a pretty big deal in Paris and Italy, but not so much here in the states anymore. She’s burned too many bridges for anyone to want to work with her. But she is…was…is a supermodel. She was the face for some top names five years ago.”
“Ah… Sorry, I still don’t know who you are talking about.” I opened the internet on my phone and typed in Ariana Calloway. There were a handful of pictures that popped up in the image search, and I clicked on the first one to enlarge it for a better look.
Shoulder length dark blonde hair. Cool, almost emotionless blue eyes. Her face was beautiful, but it was a fake kind of beautiful. I wasn’t sure if she was still that good to look at under all that makeup. She didn’t hold a candle to the beauty sitting across from me destroying my sanity by biting into a cream covered strawberry.
Harper had no makeup on, but she didn’t need it. With her purple eyes and crazy long caramel lashes, the Cupid’s bow shaped mouth, and striking cheekbones, she had me mesmerized without trying. She had captured my attention the instant I had seen her a few days ago, and she continued to hold it in a way thousands of girls hadn’t been able to.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
I shrugged. “She’s pretty.”
Harper frowned. “That’s it? Just pretty?”
“Okay, she’s beautiful. But any decent makeup artist can make anyone beautiful. She isn’t all that great to look at.” I grimaced. “Sorry if that offends you.” I didn’t want to push her away by insulting her sister.
“No, that doesn’t offend me,” she murmured. “I’m just not sure if you are for real. Most guys trip over their tongues when they see Ariana.”
“I’m not most guys. I would trip over my tongue to get a taste of you, but I really couldn’t care less about your sister.”
“Stepsister,” she corrected, her tone cool. “And now I know you are not for real.” She pushed her nearly empty plate away and reached for her water. “You must have a vision problem.”
“No, but now I know why you have to wear glasses.” Her brows rose. “Because you’re legally blind if you can’t see what I see.”
She snorted. “Wow, do lines like that really get you laid?”
I couldn’t help it. I threw my head back and laughed out loud. “No, sweetness. I don’t have to use lines to get laid.” They lined up for a chance to warm my bed for an hour or two, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “But with you it’s different.”
Violet eyes rolled at me, and I swear my dick actually twitched. Fuck. Me.
This was going to be so much fun!