Page 57 of From Fling to Ring

He chuckles. “Kind of hot, you say. Not straight up hot, but just kind of hot. You really know how to make a guy feel good, don’t ya?”

I throw my arms up in the air. “Okay. You’re full-on hot. Does that make you happy?”

He waves me off. “Nah, I’m good with being just kind-of hot. I think that’s the best I can aspire to. I’m happy with it. I am.” He crunches his last piece of bacon.

Shit. He’s nice and has a good sense of humor.

Is it too late to find another player to study? Someone else to start hanging out with, whose behavior I can study like some sort of wanna-be Margaret Mead cultural anthropologist?

I’m getting in deep here, too deep. I know it. I need to find a way to keep my distance, yet still keep access.

Even though, so far, I’ve turned up exactly nothing that can be used for my book.

He’s not turning out to be what I expected, that’s for sure. It’s not fair. Good-looking, successful, and a decent human being?

Such. Bullshit.

I want to be mad and resentful he got more than his share of breaks from the universe.

But I’m not and I can’t.

And I know I’m in big trouble.

28

LUCY

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Brooks…” I say, handing him a bouquet of flowers.

I almost add since our first meeting at the hospital, but I figure I shouldn’t dredge all that up. The evening is young and I don’t want to watch Tyler and his dad go at it all night.

Why did I bring flowers? They’re my gift of choice when I’m invited to someone’s home for dinner, but for a man?

Not sure what else I might have brought him, though. Cigars? Brandy? Are those his sort of thing?

Not surprisingly, he’s gracious, anyway. “Ruby! Flower assistance needed,” he bellows into the depths of his cute little house, then greets me with a bear hug. He’s adorable in his plaid shirt and jeans, and clunky dad sneakers.

Footsteps stomp down the stairs and Ruby rushes into the kitchen where Tyler and I follow his dad. She throws her arms around me. “Oh my God, Lucy. So good to see you.”

She pulls back and we both notice her wet hair left a big spot on my white blouse. “Oh shit. Sorry. Just got out of the shower. I am so running behind.”

She grabs the flowers from her dad and pulls a vase from a cabinet. “I’ll get these in a sec. Gotta dry my hair.”

“Hey, what about me?” Tyler asks.

“Hey, jerk,” she calls, and runs off.

“Love you too!” he hollers after her.

Mr. Brooks pulls open the fridge. “Can I get you a beer, Lucy?”

I’m usually a wine drinker but what the hell. “Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Only the best beer around.” He opens a can of Budweiser for me and takes a big swig out of his own.

“Dad, I brought wine, you know,” Tyler says, waving around the bottles he brought from home.

“I’m okay with this, Tyler. I really am.” It’s been so long since I held a can of beer in my hand. Reminds me of sneaking off in the woods in my high school years, trying to fit in the with street smart girls at my Catholic School.

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