Page 91 of Home Game

What did he mean by that?

And why did it make something flutter in my chest, in a way that it probably shouldn’t?

He groaned in frustration, looking up at the trees and sky above us. He ran his hands through his hair, then gave a big, animated shrug.

“Fuck it,” he said. “I’m just going to say it. If I was, um,datingyou. If I was your boyfriend.”

It felt like the world beneath me had just tilted.

And for a moment, I had no clue what to say.

I wasn’t even breathing, for God’s sake.

Storm Rosling was standing there, asking about what it might be like if we weredating?

“I—” I started.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Listen, I amjustas happy being your, ah, fuck toy, or anything like that. I know I’m not, um, boyfriend material. I’m kind of a loose cannon. Well, screw it, I won’t mince words. I can be a burden.”

“Myfuck toy?” I repeated, and a peal of laughter sounded out from behind us.

We turned to see a group that must have been a bachelorette party walking by. There was one woman wearing a white dress withBride-2-Bescrawled on a sash across it. They all looked at us, and the bride-to-be pumped her fist in the air.

“Be his proud fuck toy!” she shouted at us as they walked by, clearly drunk. “I had a fuck toy once, and now I’m marrying him in two weeks!”

“Power to the fuck toys!” one of her friends shouted, and they all cheered and laughed again as they walked by.

Storm and I smiled like idiots, looking at one another.

But I still felt like my world was spinning. Like it wasstillshifting on its axis, subtly but deeply.

“You thought about what might happen if you were my boyfriend?” I asked him, looking up at him and suddenly feeling like I was going to melt.

“Listen, I know I’m not your type,” he said. “All Ivy League educated, coming from old money, all that shit. I don’t know what the fuck the brand names of nice tailored suits are, and to be honest, no matter how rich I get from football, I’ll never care about those things.”

“You don’t have to care about any of that, Storm.”

His eyes burned into mine. “I really care about you, though,” he said. “I want to be… good, for you. In whatever way that means.”

“You think you’d be a good boyfriend?” I asked, my heart feeling like it might burst.

He gave me a hint of his dimpled smile. “Oh, IknowI’m a great boyfriend,” he said. “I’m just not sure if you’d even consider me.”

I shook my head. “Fuck off. Fuck you,” I said, heat bubbling up in my chest.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Let me down easy.”

“God, are you crazy?” I asked. The fire that used to consume our every interaction came rushing back all at once, flooding me. “How could you ever think you’d be a burden to me?”

His eyes went wide as he looked back at me. “Oh.”

“Oh,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Storm Rosling, you are certifiably out of your fucking mind if you think I wouldn’t be the luckiestspoiled privileged-ass prickin the world to have you as my boyfriend.”

A smile of pure joy spread across his face.

I reached out, giving him a little shove on his chest.

“Oh, it’s on,” he said in a low growl, and the amount of desire in the way he looked at me literally made my knees feel weak.

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