Page 24 of Protected By the Billionaire Ex-SEAL

“What’s the most embarrassing story you can tell me about your past?”

Most guys don’t like talking about their mortifying moments as it makes them seem less macho or cool, so I’m surprised when Christian answers promptly and doesn’t even glance at his whiskey.

“High school. I think we were around fifteen, sixteen? Anyway, this girl liked my best friend, Nick, but he was a moody ass and too enamored with the senior head cheerleader, Heather Maroon.”

“Ah, cheerleaders. Every high school boy’s dream girl.”

“Not me. I was into rocker chicks.” He grins, then continues. “Anyway, I was friends with the girl who liked Nick and thought it would be fun to play Cupid. So, I asked her to give me her poetry and told her to leave it up to me to make him see that she was his one true love.”

“Heroic.”

“Come game day—we played football—I was just healing from an injury and couldn’t play, so I put on the school mascot instead to make the grand gesture for her. But I was kind of nervous when I realized the stadium was crowded and I needed something to drink, so I drank from the team’s juice cooler…except it turned out the cooler got tampered with by a teammate’s bitter ex-girlfriend.”

My eyes widen. “No…diarrhea?”

“Not really, but close. So, I went to the center with a megaphone before the game started, just as the players were called to the field. I announced the poetry that I memorized, felt sick somewhere in the middle of it, and let’s just say it’s not just words coming out of my mouth anymore but everything I ate since breakfast—not in the mascot, thank goodness, since I removed the head of the mascot just in the nick of time.”

I gasp. I remember how big a deal football was in my high school, too, and how the adrenaline is so charged when the game’s about to start. The mascot usually hypes the crowd up even further, so imagining him having all that attention…

“Oh, my God, Christian.”

He gestures dramatically.

“So, there I was, vomiting my guts out while still trying to recite the poem and dedicate it to Nick, but I forgot to say the girl’s name somewhere along the way…so yeah, everyone thought I was in love with my best friend, but I managed to save my team from drinking from that juice cooler. They ended up winning.”

“And you?”

“I got detention, the ex-girlfriend got longer detention, people assumed Nick and I were together, and I got the nickname Barf Benson for a while…oh, and the last one was the mortifying part. The rest was fine.”

“Even detention with your teammate’s ex? Wouldn’t she have been mad at you for ruining her plan?” The mischief in his eyes answers it for me. “Holy…you got together with her, didn’t you?”

“Hooked up.” It’s a casual clarification. At my stare, he shrugs. “I was sixteen. She was seventeen. Teenagers forget bad deeds when faced with hot girls.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help giggling. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the story makes me see him in a different light, in disbelief that there’s this dorky and loyal side to him.

“What about the girl who crushed on Nick?”

At his smirk, I choke on my beer. “You did not.”

“We developed an attraction. It was brief, fun, and ended mutually. Nick still has no idea she liked him.”

“Gosh.”

“Your turn.”

I blink, then raise my chin at his challenging look. “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell me your favorite memory.”

“Seriously? That’s not even a dare.”

“It still is.”

It’s a safe one. I kind of get where he’s coming from, but it triggers the restless energy inside me. Still, I try to think.

“Twenty-four years old.”

“That’s it? After I spilled my guts out to you?”

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