Her eyes narrow.She tugs the sketchbook into her lap, her lavender nails brushing the edges of the page.“Damn.You should put your work in galleries.I’m not just saying that.I don’t bullshit.If they were ass, I’d tell you.”
I laugh.“Thanks?”
I like having someone in my life who says what she means.Brooke is together and confident like my sister, but we don’t have the same drama from years of rubbing against one another.
Brooke holds up the sketch of Miles mid-shot.“His mouth is wrong.It goes up right there when he’s shooting a three.”
I look between her and the guys, but his back is turned as they prep another play.
“How’d you know it’s a three?”
“The legs.The concentration on his face.He always gets that dialed-in Jason Bourne look when he’s trolling the arc.”
“See something you like?”
Miles has caught us staring, and all the guys look up.Clay swipes his face with a towel, then his gaze meets mine.His chin lifts in a nod.
A secret nod.
A high-school hot guy nod.
A guy who made you come in a bunk bed and held you while you watchedThe Princess Bridenod.
I try to play it cool and pretend I’m not lit up by the fact that Clayton Wade, the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, the best player on an entire team of professional athletes, is staring at me as if I’m the only thing worth seeing.
I can’t look away.
Just when I think I can contain the feelings, can keep myself from catching on fire…
Clay strips off his jersey.
Heat stokes between my thighs like a secret sin.
I know how those muscles feel against me.How he sounds, that low growl in my ear.
He knows I’m watching, and he likes it.He takes his time crossing to the side of the court to grab a new shirt.
If he walked up here and said he wanted to fuck me in front of everyone, it would take every ounce of my willpower not to lie down on the floor and let him do it.
Coach blows his whistle.“Back to work!”
They focus again in an instant.It takes me way longer.
Brooke passes the drawing back.
“Maybe you’re right about the mouth,” I say when I look at it again.“You know him suspiciously well.”
“He’s my brother’s best friend.I’ve seen him every way there is.”
We both watch the players for a moment.
I say, “By ‘every way,’ you mean…”
She folds her slim arms.“Don’t.”
“Why not?He’s cute,” I say.His wavy dark hair and the dimple when he grins.He’s got a sense of humor and is a charming playboy.
“First, my brother would kill him.Then me.Then bring Miles back to life and kill him again.”
