Lord, he’s even more attractive in person.
Deep brown hair, finger brushed. Tan, muscled skin. Stubborn jawline.
Too bad I’ll never get closer than this. Fine, I let him get away with squeezing my hips a few minutes ago. Fine, I loved the hard contours of his chest against my back, how effortlessly he scooped me up off the ground. How he came to my assistance and didn’t ask for proof of my claim. He just stepped in, no questions asked, and joined my side of the battle. I already like way too many things about him and I wish I didn’t. If he was a jerk, that would make blowing him off a lot easier.
I don’t date basketball players. It’s a personal rule and I never, ever break it.
My statement lingers in the air between us, his eyebrows drawing together over shrewd baby blues. Do I know wh
