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I have my heart set on someone else.
“Friends,” I reiterate. “He wants my advice.”
“About?”
What’s up with the third degree?
“Football life. You know, my family was and is heavily involved in the NFL,” I remind her.
That’s all it takes for Rita’s gaze to glaze over. “Right. Fun times. I like the money and fame part, but otherwise, no thanks. Football is boring.”
Not even offering a response, I leave her standing in the living room and go to my bedroom, my hands already in my wet hair, twisting it into a top knot. Once that’s completed, I tear off the undereye gel strips, tossing them in the trash before I stop in front of the full-length mirror that sits in the corner of my room.
A realization hits—Knox didn’t give me this T-shirt. It belonged to my ex-boyfriend. I still look like I’m going to bed, which was the original plan.
Screw it. I’m going with this outfit. Not like he’s going to take me out. Maybe what I’m wearing will give him easy access to the…parts he’d like to touch. Though I probably shouldn’t get hot and heavy in the Challenger.
I am not about to become just another number in Cam’s long list of conquests. If anything happens between us, I plan on sticking around.
Once I shove my feet into the Ugg slippers I had to beg my mom to buy me last Christmas, I’m walking out of the apartment, heading straight for the Challenger, which is parked all the way on the opposite of the lot, the engine rumbling as he waits for me.
Giddiness has me running those last few steps, my T-shirt—and my boobs—bouncing somewhat out of control. I go to the driver’s side, staring at Cam’s perfect profile for a too brief moment before I start knocking on the glass.
He appears to jump out of his skin for a second before he realizes it’s just me and sags against the seat. He opens the window, so I can see his handsome face and hear his deliciously deep voice.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he accuses.
I’m grinning. “You’re the one who’s acting like you’re a part of some covert operation, sending your spy to the door to fetch me.”
He grins, seemingly pleased with himself. “I couldn’t just knock on the door and ask for you. I’d cause a scene.”
“Do you really think you’re that important?”
He tils his head to the side, contemplating me. “Come on, B. You know how it is.”
Dang it, I do.
“Get in the car.” He hits a button and I can hear the locks deactivate. “Hurry.”
“So bossy,” I murmur as I walk around the back of the car before reaching for the door handle, sliding into the seat and shutting the door behind me. “What’s going on?”
He stares, his gaze raking over me from my wet head to my Ugg-slippered feet. My skin tingles everywhere his eyes touch and I’m practically squirming in my seat when he finally meets my gaze once more.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
I glance down at myself for a quick moment before I return my gaze to his. “I was getting ready for bed.”
“It’s nine o’clock.”
“Someone kept me up late last night. I’m tired.”
He smiles.
So do I. We’re looking at each other as if we share a secret.
Which we do.
“Where did you get this?” He reaches out, fingering the sleeve of my old T-shirt, his fingers coming perilously close to my untethered boobs. “Your old high school?”
