Page 18 of Body Shot

I’m a hypocrite.

And a fraud.

I have zero game with men and have no intention of letting things go any further with Anders, and yet I’m sitting hereletting him put his arm around me. After spending most of the day hanging out with him. Talking. Laughing. Splashing in the water.

I should have nipped it in the bud before anything happened.

But attention from a gorgeous professional hockey player is a little hard to resist.

Okay, impossible to resist.

Nothing like this has ever happened to me before—and I’m willing to bet it never will again—so you can’t blame a girl for wanting to enjoy it.

Is this considered leading a guy on?

Am I some kind of prick tease?

I don’t really understand how all of that works since my one and only experience with a boyfriend and sex ended in an embarrassing and painful disaster.

Sex is one thousand percent off the table.

Yet I’m sitting here nestled up to him, watching the fireworks and probably letting him think he might get lucky tonight.

“Do you know how to surf?” he asks, startling me.

“What?” I glance at him. “Surf? No. I’m the opposite of athletic.”

“Well, Scarlett and Tawny own a surf shop up in Cocoa Beach. It’s not too far from here. And they’re doing free surfing lessons on Monday. It’s basically another beach party, except with surf lessons thrown in, and less hockey players.”

I chuckle. “I thought Sloane mentioned something about that earlier today, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Would you like to go? With me?” He looks almost nervous. Shy.

How is that even possible?

What is there forhimto be nervous about?

“This is supposed to be a girls’ week,” I say slowly. “Hana and I have plans to do a lot of different things and I don’t want to be that friend who dumps her girlfriend for a guy.”

“It’s one afternoon,” he says softly, his eyes searching mine. “Just four or five hours to give us a chance to see if we like each other. See if maybe we might want to see each other again.”

Ifwe like each other?

That seems ludicrous even to me.

More about seeing if he likesme.

“I live in Philadelphia,” I say, opting for honestly. “I’m leaving in a week and then we might not see each other ever again.”

“Exactly. That’s why we should go out on a date, to see if it might be worth making the effort. It’s hard to meet people of the opposite sex you want to spend quality time with.”

“It’s hard formeto meet people like that. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that’s not true for you.”

“But you’d be wrong.” He shakes his head, and his eyes are suddenly shrouded. “I know it seems like being a professional athlete makes it easy to hook up. And that’s just it—it is. But that’sallit is. Hook ups. Sex. Maybe this will make me sound like a jerk, but I can get that anywhere. What’s much harder to find is someone I like talking to. Someone I can bring around my family who won’t embarrass me by talking about how much I make or hitting on my friends, just in case she gets a better offer. Or worse, women who go around poking holes in condoms to give her the best chance of getting wifed up.”

My eyes widen. “Has that…happened to you? Any of those things?”

“All of those things. So yes, it’s harder than you think to meet someone different. Special. I don’t know if that’s you, but how else will we find out?”

---