Chapter Seven

Alyssa

I ran the dishrag over the counter for the hundredth time, while trying not to look out the window at Demetri.

“I think it's clean,” came a voice from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. With a slight sigh, I jerked away from the counter and stared at my dad.

His expression was a cross between worry and amusement. At least he didn't look freaked that I was going to off myself in the middle of the night. Was that progress?

“What are you doing here?” I asked a little too breathlessly.

Dad's face broke out into a smile. “I own the place, and I had it on good authority — your mother's — that you looked exhausted, so I was going to give you a few hours to yourself.”

I hated hours to myself. I hated any time to myself, because that meant my focus was on me, and when my focus was on me, it was on Brady. And when my focus was on Brady… I just wanted to cry.

“Um…” My eyes traveled to the window that looked out at Main Street and Seaside Taffy, our competitors.

“You okay?” Dad asked, though his voice sounded far away. I kept my eyes focused on Demetri as he took a bow to the gathering crowd and began tossing taffy out. Idiot.

Our business wasn't doing horrible, but it's not like he was helping our sales any.

As if he could hear my every thought, Demetri's head turned and our eyes locked. At least that's what it felt like. His stare was so pensive, my palms began to sweat.

My dad chuckled. “What are we doing?” He joined me by the counter and seemed to be more curious than alarmed. Great. Now I looked like a crazy person.

“Uh…” I licked my lips and frantically tried to search for an excuse. “I dropped the rag.” My fingers released the rag onto the floor. I offered a small smile.

“You sure you're doing okay?” Dad felt my forehead. “You feel hot.”

“She does look hot, doesn't she?” I knew that irritating, beautiful, ridiculous voice. I closed my eyes and prayed I was imagining things.

My dad shot onto his feet and laughed. “You wouldn't happen to be the person my daughter's been staring at for the past few minutes, would you?”

“Probably not,” came Demetri's voice. I opened my eyes to glare. He was staring at me, and then he winked. Crap. “She doesn't like rock stars.

“Alyssa,” Dad scolded.

“Dad,” I said back in a warning voice as I rose to my feet. “Did you need anything, Demetri?”

His eyes crinkled as he attacked me with one of the most gorgeous smiles I'd ever seen in real life. “I did… I do.”

Insert long and awkward pause here where my dad looked between the two of us, chuckled, and walked off. Well, at least he was laughing. I hadn't heard his laugh in what felt like years.

“What?” I snapped.

Demetri shrugged. “I saw you staring at me.”

“Did not!” My nostrils flared. “There's no way you could see me through the windows from that far away.”

“So you were staring.” Demetri folded his muscled arms across his chest.

“No.” I swallowed and looked at the ground. Looking anywhere but at him seemed like a good idea.

“I felt it.” He placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward so our faces were mere inches apart. “Not that I mind.

“Lustful glances?” My head jerked up. I was half-tempted to bang his head against the counter, but I had spent the entire morning cleaning up that exact spot where he was leaning. Damn him.

I was still frozen in place when my mom came rushing in. “Is he still here? Where did he go? Did he talk to you? What was he like?”

“Mom.” I held up my hands. “Just… don't.”

She sighed like a teenager and giggled. She'd lost her freaking mind. “I just love Demetri Daniels, and I don't believe a word they say about his rehab or drugs. He's just a nice boy who—”

“—is doing community service.” I pointed across the street and sighed. “He's…” I couldn't think of the right word, so I just shrugged and said, “Cocky.”

Mom, clearly not caring that she was scarring me for life, sighed and watched Demetri cross the street and grab his bucket from a large guy with a shaved head. Bodyguard. It had to be.

Demetri continued singing the stupid taffy song and dancing around the corner like a drunken chicken.

And I grabbed the rag again and pretended to keep cleaning, while out of the corner of my eye I watched. I hated that he made me feel warm inside.

I hadn't had that feeling in two years, and I wasn't about to let it get the best of me again. It was all his fault.

If Demetri hadn't spoken to me that first day, if he had just left everything alone, then I wouldn't be stripping him naked with my eyes. I wouldn't be longing to touch that perfectly sculpted face.