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“You better fucking believe I am.”
Stepping back out of the doorway, I wave him in and he doesn’t hesitate, rubbing past my body on the way. He moves into the living room and takes a seat in my favorite spot. “Do you want something to eat?” I say, moving past the living room and into the kitchen.
He gets up and follows me into the kitchen. “I could eat,” he says as I go about pulling food out of the fridge and grabbing him a drink. Miller looks around our small kitchen and comes to a stop in front of my laptop that sits on the counter.
“Is that my ass?”
Ahh, shit. Might as well own it.
“Yep,” I confirm, pulling my laptop across the counter. “Sophie decided it was an ass worthy of my background.”
“Good to know,” he says, not embarrassed in the slightest.
A dull moan comes from down the hallway, and I cringe as I pull up the pictures of him and Tank, flipping it around to show him. “Check these out.”
He looks over the images and raises an impressed eyebrow. “Holy shit, you really know what you’re doing behind that camera,” he says. “Can you send me these?”
“Sure,” I say, pulling my laptop back around and bringing up my email. “Which ones do you want?”
He gets up and joins me on my side of the bench while he skims over the images again. Miller points out the ones he likes, before putting in his email address and hitting send.
“I finished the calendar,” I tell him, a little too proud of myself. “I just need Coach Harris and the Dean to sign off before we can get it printed. Then we can start selling them during your games.”
“Really? Already?” he questions. I pull up the calendar and hand over the laptop for him to scroll through. “Fuck, it’s off-putting seeing Bobby like this.”
“I know, but trust me, the girls will love it, and there are probably some guys who will, too,” I say, as Sophie screams out for Tank to take her harder.
Miller continues scrolling, as though hearing a girl screaming to be railed is nothing he isn’t used to hearing on the regular, and stops when he gets to the image of himself in the weights room. A wicked grin stretches across his lips and as he raises his gaze to meet mine, my cheeks begin to flush. “Why August?”
I can’t help but grin right back at him, a little embarrassed to be caught out like this. “My birthday is in August.”
Miller steps right into me, his dark gaze holding me captive. My heart starts to race as he takes my waist and pulls me in hard against his body. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmurs, before lowering his face to mine. His lips hover so close that I feel his soft breath against my skin. Just as I go to push up on my tippy-toes, he’s gone again, stepping back around to the opposite side of the counter, a wicked smirk on his face.
That fucker.
“That’s not fair,” I tell him.
He looks back at me, innocence in his eyes. “What’s not fair?” he questions, reaching for the laptop and dragging it across the table again as though he didn’t just get me all worked up.
“Don’t you go acting all coy with me, Miller Cain. You know exactly what you were doing getting me all hot and bothered and then just walking away.”
“Who? Me?” he questions, the innocent act quickly morphing into devilish charm. “I would never.”
I go to roll my eyes and suddenly he’s right there, gripping my waist, pulling me in close to him as he glances back at the laptop. “You’re really good at this,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say, his food completely forgotten. “I love photography.”
“So, why aren’t you studying photography?”
“I am, but it’s more like a hobby, rather than what I want for a career,” I explain. “PR is just so much more exciting.”
“How so?” he questions, letting me lead him back through to the living room and getting comfortable on the couch.
I lean over and grab my phone off the coffee table and bring up my Facebook app. “Take this for instance,” I say, logging into the Dragons’ Facebook page I created earlier in the week. “I created this page for you idiots a few days ago and shared it a few times because, for some insane reason, you haven’t already done this. I got fifteen hundred followers straight off the bat. I added a sneak peek of the calendar about two hours ago, and now you’re up to two thousand followers,” I explain. “I guess I like working on something positive and physically being able to see the results.”
“Holy shit,” he says, taking the phone from my hand and looking closer at the page. “We really have two thousand followers already? Are there even that many people in the school?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “Imagine what that number might be when the season actually starts, let alone when you win the championship.”
