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“Shut up.” He’s laughing as he says it. Putting his hands over his heart, Cooper acts like he is swooning. “It was everything I wished for and so much more, little sister.” That makes all three of us laugh as I shove him away.
“Little sister, my ass. I am three minutes older, drama queen.” I have to refrain from actually stomping my foot right now. “Have fun at practice, boys. I’ve got to go get changed and head to dance.” I put my bag back across my chest.
“Okay. See you later, Nat.” He sprints down the hall to Tiffany’s locker.
Shutting my locker, I stand there for a second, waiting for Brady make a move.
Walk away.
Say anything.
Do something.
Leaning his shoulder against the locker, he quietly asks, “How was your day, pretty girl? Was it everything you wished for?”
I lean back against my locker and raise my eyes to his, looking up at him through my lashes. Moments like these, I thank my mother for the long lashes I was blessed with and bat them at Brady, hoping I look flirty and not like I have something stuck in my eye.
“You know, I think it was. I had this super-hot football player walk me to my classes. My new best friend was in lunch and French with me. My locker opens. And I don’t completely hate my uniform. All in all, I’d have to say it was a good day.”
“You look fucking incredible in this uniform Nat.”
I can feel the heat of my blush start at my chest and move up my face.
“So, tell me more about this super-hot football player.”
“I would, QB, but I wouldn’t want you to get jealous.”
Brady reaches up and pulls me forward with the lapels of my uniform jacket. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he just tugs me toward him so that I’m standing in-between his legs and looks at me like he wants to say something.
After a minute of waiting, I give up. “I’ve got to go.” It comes out one step above a whisper. “I have to go to dance this afternoon. I’ll be with the owner of the ballet studio I am going to be working at, and I have to run home and change first.”
“Tell me, do you wear a little pink tutu when you teach?”
“Why do you want to know what I wear to teach in?”
“Because I like to have as much detail in my fantasies as possible.”
Fuck, that was hot. Oh, so quietly, I answer this incredibly sexy man. “I will be wearing a light pink leotard with a flowy little black wrap skirt and pale pink tights today.”
Brady runs his fingers down the side of my neck. “Hair up or down?”
I suck in my breath. “Up.”
“In my fantasy, your hair is down, beautiful. It should always be down and wild. I fucking love your hair.” He has one hand under all of my hair now, gripping the back of my neck, and it’s giving me chills everywhere.
“Do you like my hair too, Brady?” Murphy runs his fingers through his hair as he and Bash walk down the hall.
“Get the fuck out of here, Murphy.”
“Time to go, QB. Bye, Little Sinclair.” Murphy’s smile is huge as he waves his fingers at me.
Bash is just shaking his head as he keeps walking.
“Have fun at dance. See you later.” The look Brady is giving me makes me wonder if he will be seeing me in person or in his fantasy, and damn, I like the idea of him getting off thinking about me.
* * *
Later that afternoon, I find myself nervous for the second time today. Parking the Jeep I am now sharing with Cooper, I take a minute to calm my nerves. I have studied at plenty of impressive studios throughout my life. I’ve taken classes from some of the most incredible instructors in this country at different points in time. But right now, I am scared to death.
