Page 47 of The Love You Win

“Would you sit next to me at dinner?”

The breath catches in my lungs, but I manage a nod. “Yeah, of course.”

His answering smile is blinding. I’d be lying if I claimed it didn’t make me weak in the knees. Then again, I’d challenge any woman even remotely attracted to men not to swoon when he looks at you that way. With another glower toward the teammate I’ve never met who’s calling him over, Maddox runs his gaze up and down my form, lingering on my lips for an extra moment before he excuses himself.

“Holy Chris Hemsworth,” Jess hisses. “He’s totally into you!”

“He’s not,” I reply. The denial is reflexive, but even I’m not buying it when Maddox keeps glancing my way. And that’s on top of all the text flirting we’ve been doing.

“Oh, he so is.” Nevaeh looks like a kid on Christmas morning, staring at a pile of presents as big as she is. “And you’re into him too.”

I scoff at that. “Right. I’m into the guy who ignored me on our date.”

“No,” Jess says, drawing out the word. “You’re into the guy who saved you from an obnoxious creep. The guy who’s staring at you like he’s a starving man and you’re his favorite meal.” She arches one well-manicured eyebrow at me. “And did he know that shade of green is your favorite color?”

The blush staining my cheeks is answer enough.

“Chris on a cracker.” Jess’s attention volleys between Maddox and me. “He wore a tie in your favorite color on purpose? Yeah. He wants you.”

“It’s just a tie.” It’s not, and I know it. But if I admit how much that small gesture made my heart gallop in my chest, I will no longer be able to float lazily down the river denial.

“And Chris Hemsworth is just a guy.” Jess shakes her head at me.

“You’re obsessed.”

“Duh. Want to know who else is obsessed? Maddox Graves. With you.”

And maybe Jess is on to something, because every time I glance at him, he’s looking at me. It’s like I’m back in high school desperately trying to control myself and my wandering eyes that keep lingering on Mike Menski as he leans against his locker, chatting with the guys in his band. The problem is, the more you think about not doing something, the more you want to do it. And as much as I’m loath to admit it, I really want to look at Maddox Graves. I want him to look at me. Hell, every time I catch his eyes on me, there’s a voice in my head growing louder and louder that says I want him to devour me.

I shake my head to clear the lusty thoughts because this is the real world, not some bodice-ripper. Men like Maddox don’t want to devour women like me.

Right?

The girls and I make small talk with a few people they recognize. We smile and cluster together for photographs, peruse the silent-auction offerings that are way outside of my means, and nibble on finger foods when servers pass by with trays full of spanakopita and bacon-wrapped scallops. I’m staring at a plaque offering a weekend in Vail to the highest bidder and imagining what it would be like to have the money to jet off and do something so extravagant when Griffin sidles up next to me.

“Going to bid on that?”

Hopefully my laugh doesn’t sound bitter. I’ve made choices with my life and I don’t regret them. I’m just feeling some FOMO. “God, no. I can barely afford groceries some weeks on my teacher’s salary. Pretty sure anything I put on a weekend in Vail would be out-bid in a heartbeat.” Squinting at the perfectly retouched photos of smiling skiers, I add, “Plus, I have no idea how to ski. I’d probably break my neck or crash crotch-first into a tree like some uncoordinated cartoon character.”

Griffin lets out a guffaw of laughter and cradles his dick. “Ouch. Yeah, maybe no skiing, then.”

“The hot air balloon ride over the city is more my speed.”

“Oh, yeah?” Griffin looks at the offering beside the weekend in Colorado. It’s a romantic balloon ride at sunset with champagne, gourmet dessert, and cozy blankets to keep you warm in the air. “I’m totally afraid of heights. You wouldn’t want me to go in something like that. I’d be leaning over the side, puking on some poor sap below within minutes.”

I can’t help wrinkling my nose at that. “Gross.”

“Right?” He shivers. “One time I went on that huge Ferris wheel at Navy Pier in Chicago with the boys and I yacked all over Logan when our car stopped at the top.” Griffin stares off into space as though reliving it. “He beat the shit out of me when we got back on the ground. And by that time, everyone was trying hard not to puke too, because it smelled rank in that enclosed car.” His gaze slides back to me and a massive smile transforms his face into something boyish. “Good times.”

That has me laughing. “That’s your definition of good times?”

“Hell yeah. Out with my boys, living life, pissing Logan off… On second thought, those weren’t just good times, they were the best times.”

“Whatever you say,” I reply, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. That seems to be a theme around Maddox’s golden-haired friend. He doesn’t seem to take life very seriously. Thinking of Maddox has me seeking him out in the crowd. I try not to stiffen when I find him in the center of a group of gorgeous women. They’re all tall and model-thin, and probably loaded. My smile falters when a leggy blonde laughs, pressing her hand to his chest. Maddox doesn’t push the touch away. Of course, he doesn’t push her touch away.

“He hates this kind of thing,” Griffin says, catching the direction of my gaze, and likely my thoughts. “And he hates when women like that fawn all over him.” Maddox smiles at one woman when she says something witty and throws her head back in laughter.

“He doesn’t look like he hates it.”

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