Chapter 4 Definition of Hot

WESTLEY

Oh, boy. I’m in big trouble.

I WAS SUCH a pig for treating the only guest we had so badly. My words just came out strong and wrong. Although, I must admit that I did it on purpose.

To be honest, Clyve was hot, yet you couldn’t see an aura of a cocky playboy from the city who had only one goal in life—to get into your pants.

His classic short hairstyle was light brown—almost blond. His blue eyes surrounded by long lashes were mesmerizing that I could stare and fantasize at them all day. They were not a boring hue, in fact, when our gazes locked; it scorched me and captured my whole attention. And there was something else in there that urged me to grasp on.

What the hell was I thinking? Maybe because he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Okay, Westley, from hot to sexy, seriously?

What’s wrong with me? And definitely the handsome Brit I’d ever seen. Not that I’d seen many. I might have, but that was ancient history ago.

He was tall like Keene that I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze. He didn’t have huge muscles like those big guys, but he showed enough in those sinewy and well-defined arms. His skin almost flawless except for a few golden brown chest hairs that peeked out from the white shirt that he kept two buttons open. Yeah, in just a few minutes, I got all in my head, and I even got a chance to view his ass.

I gulped.

“What was that all about?” I almost jumped. Thankfully, Keene saved me from my lascivious thoughts.

“What was what?” I asked back, cutting the tip of asparagus for dinner.

“Your last comment before you left.”

“What was he expecting then?”

“He’s from London and used to see a castle, a Big Ben, and the queen of England, Westley.”

“Yeah. You keep that Westley.”

“I know what I am doing,” he pointed out.

“And let me tell you, Keene. I am not so sure that all Londoners are rich. He wouldn’t be here in this small town if he is privileged enough.” I rolled my eyes. This conversation would not go anywhere. I knew it because it was my fault for giving Clyve a bad impression on us.

“Be nice to our guest, please. This is our chance, and if he likes this place and our hospitality, he can tell his friends, and we might have another guest coming over. Call it marketing strategies.”

“Fine.” I couldn’t argue more. I snapped him out, but he called me Sindy. I was a hundred percent sure I heard him right.

“He’ll be joining us over dinner tonight.”

“Great. I’m almost done. I just have to roast this together with potatoes.”

“I’ll prepare the table,” he suggested.

“It’s done, and I also placed a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

“Don’t do this to me, Westley.” His voice came soft and shaky.

“Do what?”

“You’ve been treating me like I’m fragile for two weeks now, and I feel like I’m useless if you will continue doing this to me.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, Keene was already gone.

Great!

***

I SHOWERED and dressed to something satisfactory. I even curled my hair and put some makeup on. The doorbell rang when I was halfway downstairs. It was probably Clyve. He was just right on time.

“Please, come in.”

“Thanks for having me tonight, Keene.” Then he looked in my way, making me instantly freeze on the spot.

My heart skipped.

“Good evening, Westley!” He was wearing a dark blue slim shirt with sleeves rolled-up his elbows and a pair of dark jeans. It looked too perfect on him if it was even possible. His strong jawline was shaven clean, which I preferred a day or two worth of stubble, but to his defense, clean-shaven looked good on him. And then, those dark pink full lips. And since when did I care about someone’s lips? A few lines appeared at the corner of his eyes when he smiled genuinely. And he looked more handsome when he did that.

God, I should hit my head once and for all and stop whatever I was doing.

When I averted my gaze to Keene, he was already widening his eyes at me that got my attention.

Oh, yeah. What was he saying again?

“Evening, Clyve. Hope you don’t mind me calling you—”

“I don’t mind at all.” This was something in his accent that sounded so appealing than American. The way he said at all was utterly sexy to me. Frack!

“Have you settled in alright?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Please, have a seat for a while with Keene,” I excused myself and made my way to the kitchen.

I could hear them talking about the property. He seemed to genuinely like this place, and that made my stomach twist for being rude earlier.

They appeared to the dining room as if they figured out it was ready. Clyve sat across the table, facing me while Keene was on my right side. I noticed him just took the roasted asparagus, potatoes, and the salad into his plate.

“You’re vegan.” My words just slipped from my mouth naturally, and it surprised me a little bit.

He offered a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Since I’m, well...” He swallowed. “Sobered.”

My mouth agape. Wow! I couldn’t even imagine him being drunk because he was physically fit. Was this why there was something in those eyes that I couldn’t pinpoint?

Now, he completely intrigued me. Who is Clyve Clifford? I felt like I wanted to peel those layers on him, to get to know him better.

Interesting!

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push something.”

“It’s all right. It’s not a secret anyway. I’m not ashamed of what I did in the past.” I wish I am as strong as you. “I was not born vegan. My brother once asked me if I was satisfied with what I ate, but protein doesn’t only come from lean meat alone. So yeah, I’m good.” He bit the crunchy asparagus, then swallowed it. “This is really delicious.”

“Thank you. I’m not a good cook, but I can try something from scratch.”

“Guys love good food.” Keene winked at me.

“And a lush,” Clyve agreed, feeling my face flush.

“I can make an awesome breakfast, man.”

Clyve looked at him. “Really? Well, all I can do is make a green smoothie.”

Keene crunched his nose. “You drink those?”

“Yeah, it’s actually good and refreshing.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine drinking blended green leafy vegetables.”

Clyve burst into laughter, shaking his head. He actually laughed—a boisterous laugh. I noticed a barely noticeable crook on his nose. It must have been broken once. Crap! How the hell did I notice everything about him? Even his freaking nose.

“You really should try it. It’s not that bad, it doesn't have to be kale alone, you know. You can add some banana, berries, and yogurt.” A slow smile built up my lips to the way he said the word banana.

Then he looked at my way and smiled as if he just read my thought.

“Steak for kale?” Keene raised an eyebrow, daring Clyve.

I hadn’t seen Keene so carefree like this for a long time. And it quite a sight for sore eyes.

“You won’t dare me, mate.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Keene held his hand out.

“Are you sure?” Clyve shook his hand to close the deal.

“You didn’t just do that.” My eyes widened in amusement.

Keene seemed to relax around him as they talked about current events as if they’d known each other for a long time. I’d never seen him like this, and I felt I loosened a few knots in me.

* * *

AFTER THE dinner, Clyve suggested sitting on the deck that adjoined the cabins.

I bought three blankets for us. The temperature dropped chilly during the night time.

Keene already lit the pit on the ground. The orange-yellow flame illuminated the place, making it more relaxing.

I blinked the thought out my head as I watched a few moths started gathering around the fire.

“You okay?” I offered a blanket to Keene when he started shivering.

He looked up at me with lit-up eyes. “Yeah, why?”

“Just asking. I’m just happy you two seemed to get along.”

“He seems genuinely kind. You should try it, too. For at least two weeks.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Scowling, I sat on a wooden rickety chair beside him.

“Sure. You have a definition of getting along on your own. You sure you never met him before? Maybe at your parties. I noticed him staring at you quite a lot.” He maintained eye contact.

My brow arched. “I haven’t developed amnesia, Keene. I would definitely remember someone—”

“As attractive as him?” His brow cocked up in amusement, smiling at me.

Okay, that was a poor choice of words. My face burned that he easily read my thought.

“I’ve seen more attractive than him.” I narrowed my eyes.

“Really, like Who? We’ve never been outside this town for two years other than going to appointments. Have you forgotten about that?”

“I guess, he’s okay.” I looked away, hoping he would drop the subject. Except, I knew Keene would not stop until I admitted that Clyve was well was hot.

“And he called you Cindy.” His words made my heartbeat race.

Before I could reply, Clyve appeared.

“Hey, I was searching for an opener. Didn't find one.”

Holy cow! He walked in, carrying two cold beers and a bottle of water. How could a man walk so sexily?

The yellow light illuminating from the cabin created a light effect just like you'd seen in the movie—when an angel descended from the sky. And again he was smiling brightly directly at me. It was a miracle that my jaw was still attached to my face.

Maybe it was karma, beating my ass up for saying Clyve was okay because he was not definitely the definition of okay. Clyve is well, incredibly hot.

“Don’t you know we have a walking opener around here?” Keene joked.

“Really?” Clyve snickered.

I rolled my eyes when Keene was pointing his thumb at me.

“I did that a long time ago. Give it to me.” I gestured for a bottle.

“Care to teach me your tricks?” Clyve asked with curiosity. Then he handed me the cold beer.

"I can't call it tricks." I took it from him, gesturing him to give me another bottle.

“Are you sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Just watch and learn.”

I held the bottle on the neck and placed the other on my lap. Then I turned the other upside down. I placed the tip of the lid of the second bottle to the edge of the first and held it tightly.

“Then flips it up. See? Easy peasy.”

“Impressive!”

“I can also use my teeth.”

His eyes widened. “No bleeding way!”

“Just kidding.” I hid my smile when he looked so impressed after I gave him the beer.

He shook his head. “That’s for you and Keene. I’ll stick with water.”

I listened to them talking about Clyve’s brother who loved European football, and how he ended up here. Then they laughed when Clyve mentioned some ridiculous British lingo.

I missed being around with people. I used to be the center of attention as it gave me power and boosted my confidence before things happened unexpectedly—it was the worse part of my life—when I was humiliated for the thing that I never did. I could still remember the look on their faces. It still horrified me up to this moment.

The bark of laughter pulled me back out of those sick memories—it was Clyve.

“What did I miss?”

“I’m gettin’ the messages,” Keene said in a thick accent while holding his stomach as he rose from his seat. “Seriously, though. I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“It’s loo or khazi,” Clyve corrected.

“I stick with the loo.” Keene walked while I stared at his back in shock.

I turned to face Clyve. “What did you say to him?”

“Lingo?” He scratched his head, grinning at me.

“That’s all?”

“Yes, Bonnie.”