Page 80 of Chasing Headlines

“I think your standards on security awareness are too high.”

Cathy huffed. “What's the point of yourtheoreticalexercise? You don't want your baseball players to be guilty? Or you just don't want yourhotbaseball player to be guilty?”

“Hot?” My face inflamed in an instant, and the whole room shot up ten degrees. I decided to play dumb. “You mean Tanner?”

“Good try. The guy with the record we keep telling you to stay away from. Cooper something. Ish.”

“Oh. He's not . . . He's hot-tempered and an ass.” I groused. It was a lousy lie, a terrible attempt even. I doubt she'd believe?—

“Fallen out of favor already? I thought they usually lasted a season. Maybe even post-season.”

I sat up and glared at her back. I pitched one of the couch cushions, smacking her square in the arm. Hah! “I'm not that bad.”

She spun halfway around to face me. “You go ga ga for any baseball dude with a decent batting average and hardcore abs.”

The door clicked open. “Usually lasts a season. One.” Hilda stepped into the room and tossed her bag onto the coffee table. “Can't blame her on the abs, though.”

I waved my hand. “I'm right here.”

Cathy grinned. “There's worse things.”

“You know who has great abs?” I shot Hilda a wicked grin.

“Can it.” She pointed at me and glared. “I don't want to hear one more word about that estupido gili Jimenez.”

“Would I say something about him?” I raised my eyebrows and looked at the ceiling. “I don't think I would. I mean,I thinkhe's a good guy. And nice-looking, funny, and smart.” I shrugged. “But?—”

“Don't you start with me, Livia. Estoy caliente y cansada y no estoy de humor para que seas idiota.”

I gave her a look. “I'm being an idiot?”

“Mi favorita gili.” She amended with a wink as she turned the corner and disappeared into her bedroom.

I moved to follow, calling out after her: “You're the one being a gili. He practically thinks you walk on water.” I huffed andleaned back against the wall outside her room. “If one of the guys I liked thought I was that amazing, I'd be thrilled.”

“You'd be pregnant.” Dublin's dry voice announced her arrival. I poked my head around the corner in time to see her shut the front door like the knob was covered in germs.Who gave her a key?

“Jesus Dubby, where'd you magically materialize from?”

“I let myself in.”

No shit.

“And really, Liv, I just call things like I see them. You're as frigid as they come, but I'm one hundred percent certain if one of your many baseball boytoys would prostrate himself the way that Antonio the Cinnamon Roll does—” She gave me that haughty look that was practically her trademark.

“Frigid? I'm not frigid.”

She arched an eyebrow and perched on the edge of the couch. “So who've you taken as a lover?”

I didn't want to answer that. And I really hated the triumphant look on her face. “I haven't, yet. But that doesn't mean I don't . . .” Think about it. Want to. Dream about it.Oh God . . .

“You're around men dripping with testosterone. And you have an A-plus figure. Your taste in clothes, well.” She rolled her eyes.

“I need tennis shoes to run around on campus, and they have a dress code, so I can't wear shorts to class. I can't imagine wearing jeans when it's still almost ninety degrees. In October.”

“So you wear dresses or skirts . . . with sneakers.”

“Her legs are a feature.” Hilda placed her arm around my shoulder as she came back into the room. “So back off.” She gave me a side-hug, then released me to assume some sort of 'battle stance'.

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