"Oh, yes, they had the perfect marriage," I answered. "I wanted to have a relationship just like theirs one day. Ha!" I guffawed. "I was so naïve."
"No," he said gently. "You were young and only saw what your parents wanted you to see."
"Maybe." I shrugged again. "What's your favorite meal?"
"My mom's pork roast and potatoes," he answered. "Do you ever see your dad?"
"Nope," I said curtly. "He lives with his new family now, and I have no interest in seeing him."
"Does he still live in Georgia?"
"Yes, he'll never leave there."
"Another reason for you to come to Waterford?" he asked, knowingly.
I stopped typing and looked up at him. This was getting way too personal. I had assumed he would ask me similar questions to what I would be asking him.
Instead of answering him, I continued with my questions. "What's a talent you'd most like to have?"
"Singing."
I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. "But you have such an unusual voice."
"Ha, ha," he said, with no humor in his voice. "Is that why every time you hear me sing at karaoke you can't keep your eyes off of me?"
My cheeks warmed up at the truth of his words and how he was probably well aware of all my staring over the last several months.
"I thought we were acting like we didn't know each other," I reminded him.
"You're the one who implied you'd heard my singing voice before," he pointed out.
"Right." I hadn’t realized I had been the one to break character. "Next question. What is your favorite physical attribute about yourself?"
He looked at me curiously. "Who came up with these questions?"
"We polled the student body and had them write in questions that they wanted to know about the football players. We picked the ones that came up most frequently."
He nodded. "I guess I'd have to say my shoulders."
My eyes immediately went to his shoulders, and I had to agree, they were one of my favorites of his physical features. They were big and muscly and felt amazing under my hands.
I blinked a few times and peeled my eyes away from his shoulders, focusing back on my computer screen. I mentally chastised myself for getting caught up in his looks so easily. I peeked a glance at him to see if he had caught me staring. The smug smile on his face gave me my answer.
Ugh.
"What do you think of that particular feature of mine?" he asked, supporting himself on his arms as he leaned in closer to me, his shoulder muscles bunching.
"No comment," I said dismissively, keeping my eyes on my screen.
He chuckled. "That's okay. Your eyes commented enough on their own."
I rolled my eyes at him. "What is your favorite movie?" I asked, getting us back on topic.
"Top Gun Maverick."
"That's been a popular answer," I said as I wrote it out.
"So, I know... I mean," he said, stopping himself to continue our charade. "I assume that you are majoring in sports broadcasting, right?"
