Page 9 of Trick Play
“A date,” I clarify. “Dinner and maybe a party or something. We can determine the specifics together.”
“Just one date?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “I doubt you’ll be able to stop at just one, but yeah, for the purposes of this bet, one date.”
She rolls her eyes again. “Fine. I won’t avoid you today, and if I can’t maintain my non-attracted status, I’ll go on a date with you. One.” She holds up a finger to drive the point home.
“Deal.”
She sticks out her hand to shake on it, and when I clasp my hand around hers, I’m almost surprised we can’t see sparks flying into the air. Her eyes widen at the contact, and I know she feels the chemistry threatening to bubble over between us too.
Yeah, today just got a lot more fun. And I can’t wait to take her out on a date.
CHAPTER SIX
Piper
I am in big trouble.
I knew coming here was a mistake as soon as I walked in the door and caught sight of Cal McAdam. He seems to dominate any space he occupies with his broad shoulders, tapered waist, and thick thighs. And it’s not just his body. His face is almost too perfect, the slight bump of a healed break on the bridge of his nose the only thing marring the perfection of his high cheekbones, square jaw, and full lips.
I tried to ignore the tingles racing over my skin as he made his way over to me all sleek and fluid like a panther, to pretend I wasn’t painfully aware of his presence as he handed me the clipboard, but he’s one determined sonofabitch.
He wouldn’t just let me sign up and hang with my friend—who promptly abandoned me to Cal’s tender attentions while she went off with Eli—noooo, he had to go and force me into some kind of bet about me being attracted to him.
Gah!
And he’s been glued to my side ever since, walking me over to the table, handing me a plate, finding us a place to sit together where we’re close enough to see the TV and far enough away that we can still talk.
I’m uncomfortably aware of the way Dani keeps throwing me glances and grinning like I’ve struck the jackpot by being cornered into spending the day with Cal, who I’ve increasingly begun to think of by his first name. Gray has also given me a few quizzical glances, like he can’t figure out why in the world I’d be sitting with Cal at all. I just give him a shrug in return, because he’s across the room and I’m not going to shout the particulars of what’s going down between Cal and me for all the world to hear and also, I don’t think I’d tell Gray anyway. I’m not sure exactly how he’d react, but I don’t think it would be positive. His rivalry with Cal isn’t very friendly. They barely seem to tolerate each other.
Which is yet another reason I should really be staying as far away from the boy as possible instead of letting him pull my chair closer as I munch on tortilla chips and salsa, Lit’l Smokies in a tangy barbecue sauce, and a brownie. It’s not exactly the dinner of champions, but I’m not that hungry yet.
Cal’s plate is loaded down with various vegetables plus skewers of chicken and beef, but he keeps looking longingly at my food.
“Do you want some?” I ask, pointing to my plate after at least the fifteenth time he’s stared at my chips as I picked one up and brought it to my mouth. At first I thought it was part of our bet where he just stares at me hungrily all evening in order to get me to crumble and admit I’m attracted to him too—which, I have to admit, wouldn’t be the worst plan he could come up with, dammit. But the longer it goes on, the more I’m convinced that for at least right this moment, he’s more interested in my food than me.
He shakes his head, straightening in his chair and picking up a carrot stick, biting into it with a snap of even white teeth. “No, I’m fine,” he says after swallowing, but it’s clear he’s lying.
My lips pull to one side as I fight back a smile. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
His eyes raise to mine, and that damn smirk of his pulls up one corner of his lips. “Oh, yeah? You’re a pretty shit liar yourself.”
When I don’t respond to that barb, he shifts in his chair again, leaning closer to me—close enough that his breath fans over my neck. I should’ve kept the hoodie on to protect me from this kind of thing, but my hair was going down the neck, and I felt suffocated under the thick layer of fabric, so I took it off a few minutes ago. I’m kicking myself for that decision now. I should’ve just suffocated.
“Just admit that you’re attracted to me,” he whispers, “then we can start planning our date.”
“If I do that, are you going to stop staring at my food like a starving orphan from a Dickens novel?” I ask, trying to sound completely unaffected by him. I’m not sure I really pull it off, though.
He chuckles, the sound sending heat pooling low in my belly. Goddammit. Whyyyy does he have to be so effortlessly sexy? I really should just admit that I’m attracted to him. I’m really just delaying the inevitable at this point.
“Probably not,” he says. I guess he’s honest, at least. Which, if I were keeping track, would be a point in his favor. But I’m not keeping track. Nope nope nope.
“Why don’t you just have some chips or something?”
The groan he makes is far too sexy for my sanity. “I wish. It’s not on my meal plan, though, and I don’t want to get in trouble with the nutritionist. I’ve been on thin ice lately as it is. I’m trying to be a good boy.”
I toss him a smirk. “Somehow I find the idea of you as a good boy to be completely ridiculous.”
