Always the gentleman, Rhys bent over and picked up the Chanel biography that had gotten knocked to the floor during my fall. “Thanks for getting that,” I said, when he handed it to me.

“You’re welcome, Allie-Bean.” When I started in the house, he grabbed my arm. “Mind if I see inside?”

“Of course not. I guess it was rude of me not to ask you inside.”

“Don’t worry about standing on ceremony with me, Allison.”

I smiled and held the door open for him. I could tell he was impressed when he stepped inside the foyer. I’m sure it paled in comparison to the mansion he’d been raised in, but it was quite an impressive older home—the kind that Savannah was famous for.

“This place is huge when you get inside,” he remarked.

“Yeah, my bedroom even has a sitting area in it. The one way that it’s just like the dorms is I have to share a bathroom with one of the other girls.” After tossing my book down on one of the marble top tables in the living room, I grabbed my purse and slid it on my shoulder. “Ready.”

Rhys turned from craning his head up the staircase to eye me curiously. “Don’t I get to see your bedroom?” he asked, causing my stomach to do a flip-flop at the potential innuendo.

Ducking my head, I replied, “Oh, I, uh, well, it’s kind of messy.”

“That’s okay. You can clean it before I come over next time.”

“Next time?” I questioned lamely, jerking my chin up to meet his gaze. So this wasn’t just going to be a one-time deal of checking in on me just for Jake? He actually wanted to spend time with me? That was a major newsflash.

“Yeah, I thought you could host our movie night of Monty Python.”

Like an overeager puppy, I quickly replied, “Oh yeah, of course I will.”

He smiled. “Good. It’s all settled then.”

“Ready?” I repeated again.

“Let’s go.”

After locking the front door, I followed Rhys down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk that ran along Oglethorpe Avenue. “You really haven’t been able to explore the city while you’ve been here?”

I shook my head. “Between work and school, I usually spend my downtime being emo and staying locked in my room.” A laugh bubbled from my lips at Rhys’s almost horrified expression. “I’m just teasing about staying locked in my room.”

“I would hope so.”

“The truth is I have been staying pretty busy. I’m applying for a summer internship in fashion design.”

“Good for you. What does it entail?”

Giggling, I said, “Entail? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so proper than I have in the last ten minutes.”

Rhys scowled. “It’s a hazard of being back home around pompous sounding ass**les. It usually takes me a few weeks of being back on the road with the guys to get it out of my system.”

“I like it. There’s nothing wrong with an expansive vocabulary.”

Cocking his brows at me, he asked, “Are you trying to say using big words is sexy?”

“Mmm, hmm. Totally.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep giving you an illustrious repertoire of wording, eh?”

“Ooh, I like it very much.” Those words were certainly an understatement. I mean, Rhys wanted me to think he was sexy? He didn’t say he wondered if other girls found it sexy. Just me. Call me crazy that I was probably reading too much into it, but I couldn’t help it. I would take anything I could get.

Rhys grinned and shook his head at me. “So what’s this internship about?”

Part of me was reluctant to talk about it because I didn’t want to jinx it. Getting full college credit for what I wanted to do was almost too good to be true. But Rhys’s interested expression made me forget my resolve. “It would be designing and implementing a collection of my own.”

“That sounds intense.”

“It is. I would receive credit not just for this summer, but it would also take the place of several other fashion design classes.”

“Who would you be working for?”

Here was the kicker of revealing everything. After nibbling on my bottom lip for a moment, I replied, “Runaway Train.”

“Huh?” he asked, his expression waxing confusion.

“I would be designing and making some of the wardrobe for Runaway Train and Jacob’s Ladder. I would also be doing hands-on work with the current stylist.”

“Does that mean you’d be touring with us?”

“Yeah, it would.”

Rhys’s expression was hard to read. It seemed like many different emotions filtered through him. When he smiled, I exhaled a breath of relief. “That sounds like an amazing opportunity, Allison.”

“Really?”

“Hell, yes. I mean, it’s one thing getting to come out on tour and work firsthand with a tried and true designer and stylist, but then there’s the fact that you would be creating your own collection at your age. That’s very impressive.”

“You sound as if it’s a done deal, and I’ve already gotten it. I won’t know for a few more weeks if I’m accepted or not. There are a ton of applicants, too.”

Shaking his head, Rhys said, “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll get it.”

“But how do you know how good I am at fashion design?”

“I don’t have to know how good you are at it. I know you, and that’s plenty enough to tell me that you’re one of the candidates at the top of the list.”

I couldn’t help feeling extremely flattered by his high praise of me and my abilities. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“No need to thank me, Allie-Bean.” He cocked his head at me. “Now are you ready for our tour?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, with a smile.

After taking a left, Rhys motioned at an imposing mansion. “Do you know what that is?”

I nodded. “The Juliette Gordon Low House—the founder of the Girl Scouts lived there.”

He smiled. “See, you’re not totally lost about Savannah culture and landmarks.”

“I’ve never got to go inside it though.” Tilting my head, I asked, “Want to be my tour guide there?”

“I would love to.” After peering at the sign giving tour hours, he then glanced down at his expensive-looking watch and grimaced. “Unfortunately, it’s four and just closing.” Flashing a grin, he said, “I could try to use my VIP status, but I’m not sure how many of the tour guides would actually know me.”