Read The Kissing Game for Free Online Page B

world—one in which Simon Hunt would change. He wouldn't change a great deal. He'd still be sharp-witted and confident. He'd still ooze sexiness and charm, and have that aura of danger, that heartbreaker's attitude. He'd even still break hearts—everyone's but hers. When it came to Frankie, though, he'd be radically different. He'd personify the word
fidelity.
He'd become the poster model for true, everlasting love.
    Talk about fantasies ….
    Tonight Frankie couldn't muster up the energy to fantasize. Not with the woman in the pink minidress—clearly the previous engagement Simon had suddenly remembered at the real estate office—standing next to the bar. The facts canceled out the fantasy, and the fact was, Simon was going home with this other woman tonight. Lord help her, but Frankie didn't want to think about that.
    “I had a great idea, but I didn't want to make any promises in front of Clay,” Simon told Frankie. “Tell me if I'm remembering correctly. Didn't you say your buddy Jazz went to Boston University?”
    Frankie nodded, allowing herself only the brief est glance up into his eyes. Great idea or not, she hated that he was dancing with her. She hated knowing that later he was going to dance with Miss Pink over there and compare and contrast his two dance partners. Or maybe he wouldn't bother to compare them at all. Maybe Miss Pink had no comparison. Maybe Simon didn't even consider Frankie to be the same
species
as the willowy redhead.
    “I have a friend who works at B.U.'s alumni office,” Simon continued. “He owes me a favor. If you want, I can call and ask him to search the computers for Jazz Chester's most recent address.”
    Frankie forgot about the redhead. She forgot that she was dancing. She forgot
everything,
including the danger of gazing for any length of time into Simon's blue eyes. “Are you serious?” she said, staring up at him. It
was
a great idea.
    “Absolutely.”
    He was incredibly handsome, with laugh lines crinkling around his eyes, with his perfect white teeth and slightly crooked smile. His eyes were an almost unearthly turquoise shade of blue, interrupted by tiny flecks of gold and green.
    His smile warmed his eyes as he gazed down at her, and then suddenly, subtly, something changed. The warmth became heat and his friendly gaze became an almost palpable caress moving across her face.
    Frankie stopped breathing. She couldn't move, couldn't resist as Simon gently drew her in so that her body was pressed fully, intimately, against his.
    He lowered his head, and she knew without a doubt that he was going to kiss her. But he didn't. He stopped, his lips mere inches from hers, and for the first time in Frankie's life she saw doubt and a strange sort of uncertainty in Simon Hunt's eyes.
    She didn't have a clue as to what he saw in
her
eyes, but whatever it was—probably pure panic— it made him pull away from her.
    The song ended as Simon continued to back off, putting distance between them.
    “I'll call my friend at Boston University first thing in the morning.”
    Frankie nodded. What just happened? “Thanks.”
    “I guess I'll, um …. I'll see you. Tomorrow morning.”
    He walked her back to her table and nodded his thanks to Clay Quinn. He barely met her eyes one last time before he vanished into the crowd.
    Simon was embarrassed. Frankie wished she knew why. Was it because he'd momentarily dropped his guard and allowed her to see past the confidence in his eyes? Or was it because he'd almost kissed her?
    Lord, was the idea of kissing her really that embarrassing?
    “Interested in coming up to my room for a nightcap?”
    Simon gazed across the table at Chloe's movie-star-perfect face. She was gorgeous. Everything about her was amazing—from her elegant features to her perfectly proportioned curves. And she was inviting him to her room.
    Her eyes told him this was not to be taken lightly. Not everyone she dated was issued this kind of invitation.
    He knew she liked him.