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“Night.” I finally end the call and immediately send Cam a text.
Me:See me how?
He responds immediately.
Hottest QB Alive:See you now. Preferably naked.
My skin goes hot at his words.
Me:Where’s Knox?
Hottest QB Alive:In the living room.
Me:I can’t come over.
Hottest QB Alive:What’s going on at your place?
Me:I thought you didn’t want to cause a scandal or whatever if you ended up coming over?
My phone lights up with a FaceTime call and I answer him, smiling when I finally see his face pop up on the screen. Ugh, he’s so gorgeous. His hair is damp and he’s not wearing a shirt, which I think is a purposeful move on his part. Like he’s trying to drive me wild with lust.
It’s working.
“Where are your roommates?” he asks.
“They’re out.”
His brows shoot up. “Where?”
“The bars. Most likely Logan’s.”
“Perfect. I’m coming right over.” He starts to move, like he’s going to get off his bed and jet over here in minutes.
“Wait a sec.” He flops back onto the bed at my words, frowning. “I’m actually…really tired.”
“You are?”
I nod. “Someone kept me up late last night.”
He grins, looking pleased with himself. “That guy is such an asshole.”
“He’s something all right.” I’m teasing. So is he.
This is fun. Sweet even. Relationship-type banter, though if I said that out loud, Cam would deny it.
“Maybe I could come over and give you a massage,” he suggests. “Help you fall asleep.”
“A massage?”
“Yeah.” He grins, lifting his hands and waggling his fingers. “I’ve been told I have magic hands.”
“You do.” Now I’m frowning. “Who told you that?”
I imagine all of these gorgeous girls he’s been with over the years cooing at him, telling him he has magic hands, fingers, whatever.Ugh.
“The media.” He laughs, making like he’s going to throw a football. “They’re referring to how I throw a football, Bumblebee. So get those dirty thoughts out of your head.”
I scowl at him while he continues to laugh.
