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“Sheesh. Someone’s a grump in the morning,” Levi mutters from beside me.
Not bothering to acknowledge the comment, my teeth sink into my lower lip as I stare at the older man’s retreating form.
What’s obvious from our stilted conversation is that Mason Price wants nothing to do with me.
Mason
Idrag a hand through my hair before pressing the doorbell. When a couple seconds tick by, I shift and glance at the bottle in my other hand. The guy at the gas station wasn’t any help when it came to picking out the wine. We both stood in the cramped aisle, staring at the limited selection before I finally decided that one at the midlevel price point was probably my best bet.
I don’t know shit about wine.
What I know is beer.
Here's my advice when it comes to beverages with hops and barley—the colder, the better.
It’s as simple as that.
The forced smile falters when the front door opens and I find Poppy standing on the other side of the threshold.
Well, shit.
It never occurred to me that she might be here for dinner. Is it too late to bail on this evening?
I’m thinking it is.
Plus, when your boss gives you a time to stop by for supper on a Friday night, you show up.
No ifs, ands, or buts.
“Hi,” she says, hugging the edge of the door.
The hesitant smile simmering around the edges of her lips hits me square in the gut. It takes effort to force the air trapped in my lungs from my body. Every time we come into contact, my reaction to her is like a gut punch.
It needs to stop.
“Hey.” Whether I want it to be or not, my tone is clipped and full of ice.
The fledgling convo stalls as we stare for a long stretch of silent moments.
Just as we nosedive into awkward, a hearty voice booms from within the house, “Good to see you, Mason.” Derek glances at his daughter as he moves to stand beside her. “Poppy, let the man in. And look, he comes bearing alcohol.”
Knocked from my stupor, a dull heat creeps into my cheeks as I shove the bottle into the older man’s outstretched hand. “Hope this is all right. I wasn’t sure what to buy.”
Even though I try to keep my attention focused on Derek, I can’t help but watch his daughter from the corner of my eye. She looks fucking amazing in a sundress that hits mid-thigh and hugs her curves. Since the first day of class, I’ve been doing my damnedest to avoid both her and Levi. I sneak in seconds before the lecture starts and find a spot in the last row before shooting out of my seat the moment Lindstrom dismisses us for the day.
That doesn’t stop me from staring at the back of her blonde head throughout most of class. She’s a distraction I don’t need or want.
Coach leans toward me, and for a split-second, I wonder if he’ll issue a warning to stay the hell away from his daughter.
I sure as hell wouldn’t blame him for it.
“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Most of the time, Anne drinks it from a box. Upon occasion, a bag. The woman might have a fancy law degree, but she isn’t overly picky when it comes to vino.” He holds up the bottle. “This will be a real treat.”
I don’t realize air has become trapped in my lungs until it rushes from my body.
He waves a hand. “Come on, we’re in the kitchen just putting the finishing touches on dinner. What can I get you to drink?” He glances over his shoulder and catches my gaze. “Beer good?”
“A beer would be great.” It goes without saying that I’ll need something alcoholic to get me through this evening.
