“No, that’s perfect. Thanks.” I eye my blanket and pillow in his arms. “Oh, I’ll take those.” He hands them over. I expect him to leave, but he stands there looking down at me. “Okay, so this is where you leave,” I suggest and move over to the door.
“Do you think they’re still out there?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Those girls.”
I blink. “Those. Girls.” I stare at him. “Seriously?”
Those dark grey eyes meet mine. “What?”
“You have gorgeous girls all over you, and you want nothing to do with them?”
He scowls. “Why would I want anything to do with them?”
“I don’t know...maybe because they’re gorgeous and thin and tall and have perfect red hair that cascades down their backs and perfectly manicured nails and figures that are perfect and—”
“I’m not into any of that.”
I laugh, like—legit laugh out loud. “Right. You’re not into perfect model-looking girls?”
“No.”
I shake my head. “All right then. Well, I need to go to bed, so you need to,” I motion to the door. “Scoot.”
He opens the door but doesn’t leave. “I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m on my way.”
“Okay sounds good.”
“Thanks for coming to my game today; I’ll see you tomorrow.” He closes the door, and I stare at it for a moment.
“That was intense.”
I whirl around, putting my hand over my heart. “Stephanie, what in the world? You scared me.”
“Well, obviously. I mean I live here, but apparently you forgot that. You were too busy drooling over that guy.”
I grin. “I was not drooling! And that guy was Slater Thorne.”
“Pretty sure you were, but whatever. Did you have a good day at the game?”
I grin. “Yes. We won, and it was fabulous.” I walk over to my bed and drop off my blanket and pillow. “Oh, and get this. He wants me to come over to the house tomorrow.” When she doesn’t really respond, I tell her, “The house where he lives, and so does Zane Blackwood, Quint Ashwood, and Reid Marshall.”
“Are those names supposed to mean something?”
I shake my head. “Your lack of knowledge about college sports is scary.”
She laughs. “No, your obsession with them is what’s scary.”
“Do you really not know who any of those guys are?”
She smiles. “I do; I just like yanking your chain.” I throw my pillow at her. “Hey!”
“We need to go to another game together; you haven’t been to a game for a while,” I tell her.
“That’s because you found a friend that likes going to the games with you; which is great for me. I don’t have to go anymore.”
“I miss you coming to the games with us.”
