Dangerous Play

4 » exes and uh ohs

Kieran stood casually by his black Maserati as I crossed the asphalt parking lot. I couldn't help but notice how the blazer and khakis uniform seemed perfectly tailored to fit his broad shoulders, while my own polo and skirt sat like a bedraggled paper sack on my thin frame.

I climbed in the car and buckled my seatbelt. "No motorcycle today?"

He turned the volume of the car stereo down as he drove, fiddling with the aux controls until he came across a song he liked. "Nah, I don't usually take it to school." He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Why do you ask? Do you want to go for a ride sometime?"

I didn't miss the innuendo, but chose to ignore it. "Believe it or not, I'd actually like to graduate with all of my limbs intact."

"Don't tell me you're scared." His grin widened.

"I'm not scared, but if I get injured, there go my chances of playing college soccer. Excuse me if I'd rather not jeopardize my future on that metal death contraption."

Kieran laughed lightly. "Vale, whatever you say." His accent made the word come across more like bale.

I wanted to press my case further, but his casual use of the Spanish phrase had brought another topic to mind. "By the way, have you ever heard of Don Quixote? We're reading it in class."

"Of course. That was my favorite bedtime story."

First Felicity, now Kieran. "Was this some sort of childhood rite of passage that I missed out on? I've never heard of it."

He shrugged. "It's very famous. My mother used to read it to me in Spanish. She thinks it's practically heresy to hear it in any other language."

I smiled as I pictured Mercedes Cardenas reading a bedtime story to a younger version of Kieran. I had never met her, but the tall, willowy woman had quite a reputation. She was a retired supermodel, which had to be where Kieran's good looks came from, but she had also made a name for herself in the business world and ran several nonprofit organizations. In short, she was my life goals.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Homer's, a local coffee house slash bakery that always promised delicious food. Kieran killed the engine. Before I could ask why we had driven all the way out here when there were much closer places to get food near our school, he stepped out and around the car, pulling open the passenger side door for me.

"How chivalrous," I said sarcastically, giving him a teasing grin as I slid out of the car.

He rolled his eyes at my comment and started walking toward the quaint café. "This is the thanks I get for trying to be a gentleman?"

"You don't even know the meaning of the word." I pushed open the door before he could and entered the building.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was the first thing I noticed, with flavors of mocha, caramel, and hazelnut intermingling and adding to the rich smell. The inside looked like a regular coffee shop, with chairs arranged neatly around tables scattered throughout the room. A stage in the back for the occasional live performer lay vacant, which made sense considering it was lunchtime on a weekday—not exactly prime time for a jazz concert.

My gaze zeroed in on the giant coffee brownies, neatly packaged in saran wrap and sitting on the front counter. Already, I could practically taste the heavenly combination of chocolate and coffee melting on my tongue. Kieran followed my gaze, the corners of his full lips rising in amusement as he spotted the dessert I was drooling over.

I reached for my wallet and frowned when I came up empty. I must have left it in the car. "Hey, give me your keys."

He edged away from me. "Absolutely not."