Page 62 of For Crosby

He reached over and linked his fingers with mine, resting them in my lap. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Do you have a comment for everything?”

My eyes shifted back over at him. “Anything worth saying.”

His eyes remained on the road. “You’re pretty fantastic.”

“Keep going.”

His smile grew. “And sexy.”

“And?”

“And when are you coming to a game to watch me?”

“January twelfth is an away game. So whichever game is after that.”

His smile reached all the way to his eyes. “You know when my next game is?”

“I looked it up when I was trying to figure out when you’d be back at school.”

“That when you realized I never left?”

I nodded. “No more holidays alone. Okay?”

His eyes cut to mine and his smile turned me into the type of giddy girl I swore I’d never be.

* * *

Crosby stepped out of the hotel bathroom in nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips.

I drank him in, wondering if the water droplets rolling down his chest were meant to distract me—anything to avoid visiting his father. And if he kept staring at me with those hungry eyes, I might’ve let him blow off his visit so we could spend the day in bed. But it had been months since he’d spoken to his dad. He needed to.

Trying to distract him—and have a little fun of my own—I held up my phone and snapped a few pictures of him.

He laughed as he moved forward, each step displaying more of his body.

My phone rang. It was Finlay. I sent it to voicemail and snapped more pictures, capturing each predatory step he took closer to me.

“Who was that?”

“Finlay.” Click.

“You sent it to voicemail?”

I nodded. Click. Click.

“What’s she think about me bringing you to Texas?”

“I didn’t tell her.” Click.

He stopped, eyeing my curiously. “Why not?”

I shrugged.

He leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms.

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