Page 17 of From Fling to Ring

Okay. She thinks I’m human. Sad as that is, I’m pretty sure it’s meant as a compliment.

“Geez. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I say. Please, let this woman crack a smile. Or something.

And she does. “Hey, it wasn’t meant as a put-down. Chill out, okay?”

Really?

She’s telling me to chill out? She, who has an icicle shoved so far up her ass her lips are blue?

I lean over the table between us, pushing our coffees out of the way. “You’re telling me to chill? You’re acting like I have some deadly communicable disease and you can’t get the hell out of here fast enough.”

Her mouth drops open. Apparently, she didn’t plan on being called out, at least not by me. And I don’t care. This woman needs an attitude adjustment and if I have to be the one to give it to her, so be it.

It sounds completely cliché, but I know Lucy’s type, just like she thinks she knows mine. And she doesn’t like guys like me. Not because we’re horrible people or anything like that. No, she’d never put forth enough effort to determine whether that’s the case or not. She dislikes my ‘type’ because we represent something that rubs her the wrong way.

Maybe she saw the jock in school who got passing grades when he didn’t deserve them because the teacher had a soft spot for athletes.

Or the asshole big-man-on-campus college jock who acted like she wasn’t even there. That when she passed him in the quad, he might have looked her way, but his gaze went right through her like she was invisible.

She could very well resent the obscene amounts of money pro athletes get paid, and be steadfast in her belief that we aren’t deserving of it. She kind of has a point with that one.

Hell, I could take a bullet for this woman and she’d still think I’m a douchebag.

The not-so-hilarious thing about all this is that Rake and Jonas saw her coming from a mile away. I thought I could charm her, make her like me, and they knew all along that would be a snowball’s chance in hell.

Those assholes set me up and now I’m headed for a fitting with a pretty pink dress.

Lucy snaps her jaw closed and straightens up in her seat. “I’m sorry if I came off that way. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Holy shit. She’s blushing. Not a lot, but still, there’s a light pink on her pretty face.

“Do you mean to say you aren’t worried I have a communicable disease, or at least one that’s deadly? And you’re cool with that?”

She presses her lips together and, in spite of herself, one corner of her mouth crooks up, followed by the other. Pretty soon she’s sporting a full-on teeth-baring smile, which is, by the way, quite pretty.

She nods, as if conceding I won the round.

We both know it’s not the last.

“Well, now. That smile makes you more… human,” I say slowly.

She covers her mouth with her fingers like she’s trying to hide her smile and stares out the window at the passersby in order to avoid looking at me.

While a woman ducking my gaze is not usually a good sign, right now I’m taking it as one. She knows she’s just been called out by someone who’s nothing like she assumed I’d be.

So, I take my chance.

“Hey, you want to go out next week?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

7

TYLER

“No way. You must have misheard her. She did not actually agree to go out with you.”

I grab the bowl of pretzels from Rake, messing up the poker chips he has perfectly organized in front of him.