Page 94 of I Think He Knows
And not kissing her for the past couple days has been an exercise in self control that I would gladly never repeat.
But I had to hold on. Take it slow. Lana’s been hurt so badly in the past, the last thing I wanted to do was move too fast or risk making her uncomfortable in any way. After all, she and her daughterjustmoved into my house. I don’t want her for a second to think that I expect anything from her. Especially when we haven’t talked about what’s going to happen when this trip is over—when thisIf Onlyrole is in the bag and our fake engagement can officially be called off, according to Elena.
This is why I want to enjoy every moment together while we’re in LA. And, hopefully, find another perfect opportunity to kiss her again. Show her how much she means to me.
I was so happy when she said that she wanted to go surfing earlier, when she said that she wanted to do what I love instead of all the tourist trap stuff. I would’ve gladly done those things with her, also. But it fills me with a special kind of warmth to know that she wants me to show her more of myself. The parts of me that she doesn’t see when we’re apart.
It made me wonder why I’m even preparing for us to be apart again. What would happen if I just…
Stayed.
And speaking of staying, I cannot seem to get rid of freaking Anthony. He’s been here for, like, two hours. So basically an hour and forty-five minutes past his welcome.
“So, um, we should probably head out.” I shift from foot to foot, check my watch, then realize I’m not wearing a watch, and hastily shove my hand in my pocket.
Anthony tracks the gesture with glinting dark eyes from the huge, U-shaped couch where he’s lounging beside Lana, chatting away like they’re BFFs. Mostly making jokes about my terrible cooking and coffee-making skills while I hover beside them, shooting him what I hope are sneaky death glares.
He arches a brow at me and stretches like a cat. “Trying to get rid of me, Carter?”
Yes.
Lana Mae looks at me with interest, and I shake my head, not wanting to appear rude. “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that the truck is loaded up and ready to go downstairs, and it’s probably going to take an hour and a half to get to Zuma at this time of day, and…”
“I get it, I get it.” Anthony climbs to his feet. He does a wink-wink-nudge-nudge gesture to Lana, then stage whispers, “I thinksomeoneis trying to get you alone.”
Lan’s cheeks turn pink, and she hops up, too. Gives Anthony a quick hug. “Good to see you.” She glances at me. “I’m going to change before we go.”
“You can use my bedroom,” I tell her.
“You don’t say,” Anthony purrs.
As Lana walks away, I punch him in the arm. “Would you quit it?”
“Would you get over yourself and tell her you’re in love with her?”
Touché, Ant.
“I will.”
And I mean it. I just need to figure out the perfect way to do so.
“You better, you idiot.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Love you, too.”
“Tell her.” He points at me as he backs towards the door. “And remember, 9am sharp tomorrow. I can keep Lana Mae company while you’re gone, if you like.”
I smile at him gratefully. “Thanks, I’ll let her know to text you.” Then, I frown. “Just don’t make her coffee from my machine, okay?”
“You celebrities and your weird requests.”
And with a flick of his scarf, he’s gone. Though why he’s wearing a scarf today, I’ll never know. It’s like seventy-five outside. Fashion is clearly not my forté.
“Don’t tell me you’re gatekeeping the caffeine.” A laugh makes me whirl around, and Lana’s standing by the door to the living room with her arms crossed, an adorable smirk on her face. She’s sporting a high ponytail and a lemon yellow sundress over a white bathing suit that makes me take a very sudden U-turn in my opinion of fashion.
“Beautiful,” I breathe, my eyes moving over her face, her lips, her neck, her body. “You look beautiful.”
“Thought I could at least look cute, pre-wetsuit. What’s happening at nine tomorrow?”