Do not think about Nico Romero, I scold myself.
I’m concentrating so hard I don’t hear him step out onto the balcony beside me.
But I feel him.
The atmosphere shifts, turning electric, and the hair on my neck stands on end. He’s here. My eyes aren’t even open, and I can sense him, like every cell in my body just got shocked awake with a hundred volts of electricity.
I know I’m going to have to face him at some point. It’s too chilly outside to pretend I’m asleep. For some inexplicable reason, I don’t think Nico would let me get away with avoiding him.
“I can feel you staring at me,” I murmur.
“Just making sure you were still breathing.”
I fight a smile at the idea of him being concerned for my well-being. “So, you’re admitting to staring at my chest again?”
Nico chuckles darkly and gruffly mumbles, “If you only knew.”
His admission lights my skin on fire. He thinks about me.
I don’t dare look at him and instead focus on the night sky above me. Hardly any stars are visible now that the late-night marine layer has enveloped the sky in the sun’s absence.
I hear a chair skid across the concrete floor. My hands shake as nervous energy zips through me. I hate how he affects me. How my body reacts to him.
“You can go away now. As you can see, I’m fine,” I grouse.
I’m greeted by silence, and I start to wonder if he went back inside. My curiosity gets the best of me and I turn in his direction.
Gray eyes that look more glacial in the dark meet mine, knocking me off balance.
I summon all the frustration within me and practically snarl at him. “You’re still here.”
Nico flashes me a cocky grin. “I am.”
“Why?”
“I’m enjoying the view.” His eyes slowly rake down the length of my body.
Blood rushes to my cheeks, making them burn. It’s ridiculous. There isn’t an inch of skin visible beneath the blanket wrapped around me.
“Congratulations on your win tonight,” I blurt.
Why on earth did I say that? Now he’ll know I was watching him. Based on the wide grin on his face, that’s exactly what he thinks.
“I didn’t know you were a fan, Doc,” he practically purrs.
“Totally. Heath Erikson is my favorite. He’s so hot.” I fan my face and watch the smile on his face disappear.
Take that, you cocky jerk.
Nico bristles at my comment. “Yeah, well, he’s married.”
“That’s a shame. I’d ask you to give him my number if he weren’t.”
Gone is the suave baseball star. He stands abruptly, with a scowl on his face. He digs his fingers into his jet-black hair and tugs as he paces back and forth. I’m giddy at the prospect of getting under this man’s skin.
I use the moment of distraction to check him out. He’s wearing a pair of joggers and a long-sleeved Evaders T-shirt. Even dressed in athletic clothes, his body looks like a well-honed machine. His butt is damn near perfect from spending all that time squatting.
He stops pacing, and I stop staring at his ass. When I look him in the eyes, that smug smirk is back.
