If Only Read Free

hand, he must be pretty intelligent if he’s close to completing a double major already. And then there’s that maddeningly adorable grin. Okay, grin cancels out academic incompatibility.
    He stares at me, his lips pursed into a taunting grin. I’m about to fill the awkward silence when he speaks.
    “It’s my turn. Do you always get lost in your head?”
    Thought he wouldn’t notice.
    “That obvious?”
    He nods.
    “Do you really always say what you are thinking?”
    He nods again.
    “Always?” I ask.
    “Always,” he answers. “I grew up with three older sisters, Jen, Megan, and Natalie. Speaking up was the only way to get noticed sometimes. And there’s a lot of power in being straightforward.”
    Yeah, like unnerving those in your presence.
    “Sisters, huh? Bet you learned a lot from them.”
    He crosses his arms and rests his head against the window.
    “Sometimes too much. If I could unlearn a thing or two…” He trails off for a few seconds. “But much I had to learn on my own.” He waggles his brows. “The fun stuff.”
    I swallow again. Don’t they come by with a drink cart or something on trains? Every time his eyes find mine, I almost ask if he’s thirsty, too. But his voice never falters, nor does his gaze. Damn Sam and her power of suggestion.
    I clear my throat, determined to call bullshit rather than let him feed me any more.
    “Really? It was that easy being the youngest of four and the only boy? From womb to Lothario in one fell swoop?” I cross my arms and hold his stare, daring him to show me something real. Two can play this game.
    “When did I ever say easy?” His tone shifts, no longer ribbing me with innuendo. Something wistful, even sad, replaces the bravado, and I want to take it back, tell him I was joking, because I don’t need real. I don’t want real. Ignoring my natural tendencies means quite the opposite of real.
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about you or your family.”
    He shakes his head. “You didn’t say anything wrong. Like I said, they taught me a lot, even if I didn’t want to learn it all. My youngest sister, Megan, was a senior in high school when I was a freshman. I watched her fall in love and subsequently get her heart ripped out. The usual. I knew the guy was a dick. It’s kind of a kindred thing. We can tell our own kind.”
    I rest my hand on his arm. “You’re not a dick.”
    “No?” He pulls his arm away, runs his hand through his shaggy waves, and looks up to avoid my eyes. “My sisters call me a serial monogamist. I don’t cheat. Never have. Only one girl at a time, but I’m not looking for forever. I’m great with right now, but beyond a month or two, things get complicated.” His eyes come back to mine. “So maybe I am a dick, but I’ve never once tried to hide it.”
    Shit. A man-whore with a heart.
    “Isn’t it lonely, to never really connect with someone long-term?”
    His consummate grin reappears. “You’re thinking about it the wrong way. It’s kind of hard to be lonely when you’re never alone. Plus, no complications, no loose ends. It works.”
    “For now,” I say, not wanting to push the issue. Maybe he’s on to something. Logan and I connected long-term. At least I thought we connected, but on more than one occasion, even if he was right next to me, I never felt lonelier. That’s how I knew. Whatever I was looking for, I hadn’t found it. Ever since him, I’ve continued to look, probably for something that doesn’t exist.
    “Now is all that matters.” He shrugs, like everyone lives by his motto. “Hey. What’s with the side eyes?”
    “Katie was ready for you right now. ” I throw his words back at him. “You’ve got girls so willing to give you what you want, they’re writing phone numbers on your palm. I’m not that kind of girl…”
    I stop myself from saying any more, from bringing an analysis of Jordan-before-Scotland into the mix.
    “You’re not like that,”