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You don’t want someone like me.”
    “Then what do I want?” She didn’t mean to ask it. It just fell out of her mouth. But that wasn’t even the most disturbing part. The worst part was she was hanging on Ryan’s next breath, hoping he could tell her what she wanted. She’d been thinking about that for weeks, and still had no clue.
    “I’m thinking a tall Polish Ritter student.” Ryan slid her a grin.
    “Yeah, well, he wouldn’t want me. I’m the mess in that relationship.” Her face flamed. “Not that there’s a relationship. We’re just friends. Not even friends. He’s my boss. You know, never mix business and pleasure.” She stood up before the embarrassment melted her into a puddle of goo on the ground. Or she babbled some more.
    “I think he could overlook that.”
    “Overlook what?” She stopped in her tracks. What could he overlook? And why did it matter?
    “The mess, the friends, the boss.” Ryan’s smile spread across his face, and really— why wasn’t she going all melty over him? Why did it have to be Ski? Not that it mattered, they were both annoying fratties, so not her type. They were the opposite of her type, if she really had a type. Which she didn’t.
    Why was she still standing there again?
    “I should get back to work.” She pasted on a smile as she walked him to the parking area. “It was nice to meet you.”
    “It was nice to meet you too, Samantha.”
    She practically tripped over her own feet as she ran back into the house. Away from Ski and away from Ryan’s prying eyes. He could overlook that . Yeah, he probably could. And didn’t that just scare the crap out of her. Because he might be able to look past her faults now, but what about later?
    What about after she fell in love and started to rely on him? Would he be so willing to see past her flaws then? Would he stick by her when she forgot to do some easy task, like checking her employee’s work? Or would he walk away? Just get fed up?
    Her mother did it. And she had that whole maternal thing. That thing that said she would love her child no matter what. Yet she walked away, without a backward glance.
    Ski didn’t even have that maternal thing to keep him around. What would keep him from walking away?

~»ΨΡ«~
    Chapter Eight
     
    Ski
    LATER THAT afternoon, Ski sat at Barnacles pub listening to Ryan ramble on about bullshit. The mock porthole windows and wood-plank furniture made him feel like Jack Sparrow. A tall blond Jack Sparrow, without the guy-liner. Or an earring. He leaned on the table— a glass-covered ship’s wheel— and grabbed his head, ignoring the overwhelming urge to beat his head on the table. Or beat the crap out of Ryan. Either would work. He’d really wanted to get out of the frat house, but why had he agreed to go to Barnacles with Ryan today? He had no idea. Although he had to admit, the sexy seafaring wenches that brought out the food and booze might have helped. Awesome wings and eye candy never hurt when drinking away one’s problems.
    “So, it was interesting seeing all the progress on the house.” Ryan finally sat back and took a drink of his beer.
    “Yes.” Ski played with the label on the beer bottle in front of him. Sam had made a lot of progress. Great. Then she’d go away and stop tormenting him with that body. That should make him happy, so why did it only make his stomach twist?
    “Ski!”
    “What?”
    “So, how long have you had a thing for the contractor?” Ryan raised his eyebrows, and Ski glared at him. Ryan only shrugged. “I get it— the way you eye-humped her when she showed us around. She’s hot. You two will make beautiful babies and shit.”
    “Shut up. It’s not like that.” He only wanted it to be like that. Dammit.
    “Really?” Ryan grinned and raised his beer. “Then maybe I’ll take a run at her.”
    “Back off, Kent.” The growl left Ski’s throat before he could stop himself. Ryan wasn’t stupid enough to make a run for his girl. Was