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“Exactly.”
“I should get some return on my investment,” he huffs.
I have to admit that he’s pretty darn cute when he’s mad—at least when it’s over something as trivial as a board game.
I never thought I’d have this much fun playing Monopoly. Growing up with three brothers usually meant that game night would end in some wrestling match with one of us crying or yelling.
Even though the game between Shane and I has gotten a bit heated, it’s still fun. We’re having a blast just hanging out and getting to know each other again.
We’re having such a good time that I feel guilty that we never got to know each other better in high school. I wish I could say I had no clue why we weren’t close, but that would be a lie. I was so caught up in volleyball and my superficial relationship with the football team's quarterback that I had a one-track mind.
But now, things have changed. I’ve changed. Everything that seemed important to me suddenly doesn’t seem important at all.
And here I am, sitting with Shane and having more fun than I’ve had in I don’t know how long. I’m still shocked that he came here to apologize and cheer me up.
And when he said he had a crush on me, it made me want to kiss him.
Okay, I still want to kiss him. He looks so good that I want to do more than kiss him. I’m painfully aware of every muscle rippling under his t-shirt.
But I try not to think about that and focus on the game.
On the next roll of the dice, Shane lands on one of my properties with a hotel on it. When I tell him how much he owes me, he counts his small pile of money and hands it all to me.
“Alright, you beat methis time.But I want a rematch, and I’m going to whoop your butt,” he says.
He stands up and excuses himself to the restroom. I watch his firm ass walk away before collecting all of the paper money and separating it into different piles.
It doesn’t take long for Shane to return, and when he does, he helps me get the game organized and put away. Once we’re done, he sits next to me on the couch, and I can’t help but notice how good he smells. I have no idea how to describe it because, let’s be honest, most men’s soap smells are weird things like Wolf’s Breath or Dragon’s Tooth.
But I digress.
My point is that the man smells good.
When the game is all put up, he turns toward me. “Next time, you’re going down, Sunshine.”
“You’re pretty confident for someone who just lost a game of Monopoly pretty damn quickly,” I joke.
He lets out a deep laugh from his chest. “I was just getting warmed up. Just wait until we play Twister. We’ll see how confident you are then.”
I give him a playful smack on the shoulder. “Very funny, smartass.”
He smiles at me and asks. “What do you want to do now?”
Without thinking much about what I’m doing, my fingers grip a handful of the chest of his t-shirt and pull him toward me, not stopping until his lips crash against mine. We stay in this moment for mere seconds before he pulls away. And I realize maybe I’ve just made a colossal mistake.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He makes eye contact before replying. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jenna
I’m right?
Okay, I’m the absolute queen of misreading signals.
Someone shoot me.
