Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Tell me something gross about yourself.”
“Why?”
We were rounding one of the outdoor courts. A couple of the other players were there, shooting hoops.
I figured, why not. “Because gross helps balance things out. I need balancing out. I’m starting to like you.”
He grabbed my arm, jerking me to a stop.
His head inclined toward me. His eyes keen. “Say again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. You’re a pro ball player. Women throwing themselves at you is not new. Why are you surprised by me?”
“It’s not that.” He gripped the back of his neck. “As a line, that was almost lame compared to some I’ve heard.” An easy grin fell back in place and he let go of his neck, nodding to me. “You can do better.”
This guy.
I—no words.
Then I blinked a few times, staring at him because he was right. I could do better, and that sort of thing wouldn’t even phase him.
“Okay. Fine.” I could do this.
This was weird.
I was still going with it. “Is your dick cold? Because I’ve got a warmer for it.”
He didn’t react, his face expressionless, then his smirk grew. “That’s it? We’re not at the Roxbury. Do better.” His smirk was growing cocky.
Jesus. He did not realize the stalker he was fanning here.
Some of the bouncing from the court lessened. The guys were starting to watch us. One guy broke from their group, heading over. I saw it from the corner of my eye.
I coughed. “I don’t know. How do girls usually hit on you?”
He shrugged. “Most just usually send me a nude in my messages. Or you know, practically being naked and just grabbing me.”
“That works?”
His smirk was almost rakish now. “If I have an itch and she’s got the warmer for my dick.”
That was so crude. My warmer got hotter.
“Yeah. Well. I’m trying to warn you away from me.”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t scare me. Besides, I thought you were funny.” He relaxed, rolling his shoulders back.
“Reese,” Juan called out, halfway to us. He shot out a ball. It bounced once and Reese caught it without looking away from me.
“You think I’m less funny now that I’m being honest?”
He flexed his hands around the ball. “Maybe I’m missing the questions?”
Juan stopped just shy of joining our group and conversation. He was waiting.
And I was waiting too. No one missed my questions. I didn’t even miss my questions. I was waiting because I didn’t know how to process this conversation. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you messing with me?”
There was another burning feeling in me, moving up, spreading over my stomach, my chest, rising all the way to my neck. It was a burning feeling that I hadn’t felt in so long. I almost didn’t recognize it.
“Is that another attempt? ’Cause that’s lame too.” He smirked. “Thought you weren’t a camp groupie?”
Well…there was always going to be a fine line with that one, especially with him, only with him.
I closed my mouth and bit down hard. Juan Cartion was listening to our conversation, and not even hiding it. The Cruskinator was coming in too, his large hands on his hips.
I focused back on him, trying to ignore the other two and now a third was coming over. “We have an audience.”
Reese’s eyebrows pulled together, skimming a look over his teammates. “So?”
“So.” I coughed, smiling and dipping my head down. My hands were almost shaking. “I should get the cage open. Excuse me.”
I wasn’t running. I honestly wasn’t.
I wasn’t hiding.
I wasn’t avoiding.
I—just—I’d hid from life while I was with Damian, then hid for another year, and Lucas had been a crash and burn attempt at jump-starting my whole living again. This, though. This, with a minor conversation with Reese Forster (yes, I had to say his last name because his first name didn’t put it into the best perspective) had me feeling things I’d almost forgotten could happen in me.
I felt normal, for a small moment.
I was a girl crushing on a guy, not a fangirl gawking over a celebrity, and it hit me hard in the chest. Right there, making that thing pumping and skipping a beat.
That was what I’d been afraid of.
I was normal again the next morning. So normal I was boring.
No fangirl. No creep or freak. Nothing. Not one iota.
Reese looked at me, and I barely reacted.
Reese asked me for a ball and I handed one over, just fine. My hands only trembled a slight bit. See. Totally freaking so-blah boring.
I could’ve put myself to sleep, I was that lame.
I was tragically normal.
That lasted until the afternoon.
Reese was in the hallway when I came out of the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, and his head lifted as I exited the door. He pushed off from the wall and declared, “You’re being weird.”
Holy shit. He finally knew me.
I grinned, not wanting to go back to the gyms. No one else was in the hallway so I leaned back against the other wall. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s my norm.”