Jenna rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who will probably graduate wearing a CFP championship ring.”
“I try not to get caught up in the hype.”
We’re 3-0, but it’s still early. Anything could happen, so there’s no point looking beyond next week’s game. Not when we’ve still got the entire season ahead of us.
“It must be a lot of pressure,” Piper says, toying with the end of her ponytail as we approach the smoothie bar. “Having all of Wildcat Nation expecting you to deliver a national title.”
“It is, but you get used to it after a while.”
She scrunches her nose. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to it.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I still get stressed before a big game, but at the end of the day, it is just a game.” She looks doubtful and I dig deep, searching for the right words. “Back home, on my family’s farm, the stakes are much higher when you’re delivering a breech calf or caring for a horse with colic. It’s not about winning or losing, it’s about life or death. It gives you perspective.”
I respect the guys who live and breathe the game, the ones who want to go pro, but that will never be me.
“You live on a farm?” She smiles, her lips forming a Cupid’s bow, and my pulse quickens. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What can I say? I’m a simple guy.” I step in front of her and open the door to the restaurant, holding it wide. “What you see is what you get.”
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear her cheeks flush as she steps inside.
We order our smoothies and the girls grab a table while I pay the bill. It seems like the right thing to do given I invited myself along on this little adventure. They’re whispering as I shove my wallet back in my pocket, but their faces give nothing away.
For all I know, they could be plotting to ditch me.
Shit. I never should have asked to join their smoothie run. Crashing two events in one day is probably bad form.
Should’ve quit while you were ahead, asshole.
Yeah, right. At no point in that pole class was I ahead. If anything, I probably dug myself into a deeper hole. Not only did I make a complete fool of myself trying to do the most basic maneuvers, I couldn’t tear my eyes from Piper. She caught me gawking more than once. Though, to be fair, her gaze lingered on me when she performed her final routine of the day.
And that routine?
It was fucking hot. When she arched her back against the pole, her breasts straining against the tiny sports bra, I nearly came on the spot.
“Come on, Brady.” The sound of my name rips me from my thoughts, and I look over to find Jenna patting the empty chair next to her.They got a table for three.That has to be a good sign, right? “I’ve never met a real-life farmer and I want to know all the things.”
I grab my strawberry-banana smoothie off the counter, relishing the ice-cold contrast to my heated flesh, and then I take the empty chair, attempting to fold my legs under the world’s smallest table.
Christ. Who designed these things? It’s like they were made for munchkins.
“So, what kind of farm do you have?” Jenna asks, swirling her straw around in her cup.
“Our major crops are wheat, hay, and corn, but we also raise cattle and we’ve got a small orchard where we grow apples.” She stares at me, clearly unimpressed. “My grandma also keeps chickens, goats, and a few sheep.”
“Your grandma has her own petting zoo?” Piper snarks, grinning ear to ear as she lifts her smoothie to her mouth.
I chuckle, because I’ve never thought of it that way, but it’s an apt description. “I guess you could say that.”
“Do you have baby chicks in the spring?” Jenna asks, bouncing in her seat. “Please tell me you have chicks.”
“As a matter of fact, we do.”
I pull out my phone and bring up pictures of the peeps that hatched this past spring.
“Ohmygod,” Jenna squeals, holding the phone between herself and Piper as she swipes through the pics. “That’s the cutest freaking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Screw cute. My attention is fixed on Piper as she wraps those cherry red lips around her straw and sucks.
