Page 32 of Set on You

I cast a stealth glance at his biceps, unable to stop the question from rolling off my tongue. “Have you ever been in one of those naked first responder calendars?”

The corners of his lips turn up. “Why? Want a copy for your wall?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I scoff, refraining from requesting this potential calendar enlarged in poster size.

Before I break down and inquire, Grandma Flo comes striding through the lobby, her monstrous red purse draped over her elbow. Her gaze narrows to Scott. “Scotty, are you alright?”

He stands, as good as new again. “Yup. Nurse Crystal healed me.” He flashes me a wink.

“I gave him a juice box from reception,” I explain, standing to follow them toward the exit.

She pats him on the bicep affectionately as he graciously holds the door open for her. “I’m terribly sorry to have troubled you,Scotty. I get all mixed up with the plans sometimes with so many appointments, you know? But I’m perfectly fine to have Crystal bring me home.”

I expect him to be visibly annoyed that he’s just wasted an hour of his time, was presented with his phobia, and nearly fainted in the process. But he doesn’t appear rattled. When he gives her an easy smile, I wonder if anything truly fazes him. “No worries, Flo. You can always call if you need me.”

We’re on the sidewalk outside the clinic. Scott looks frustratingly relaxed, in no rush to go anywhere. As the two of them make small talk about the weather, all I can think about is that calendar. Is he in one or not? I make a mental note to google it the moment I’m in private. And then I chide myself.Stop thinking about how his eyes look like blades of grass on a summer day. Or better yet, his cut biceps. It’s irrelevant. All of it.

Scott is arrogant. Impossibly charming without being smarmy. Probably a player who’ll go back to his ex after getting what he wants from me. Exactly the kind of guy I don’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Well, tell Gramps I say hi,” he says to Grandma Flo, hands in his pockets as we head toward my car.

I’m walking at a brisk pace compared to a meandering Grandma Flo because I’ve got shit to do today, like filming a nutrition Q&A. I don’t have time to dillydally making forced conversation with my enemy in a parking lot.

“Oh, that’s right. He wanted me to remind you to come over for the Blackhawks versus the Bruins next week. If you’re off,” Grandma tells him.

“I’ll be there.” He dips his chin as she gets in the car.

I twist my keys around my fingers before opening the driver’s side door. “You’re a Blackhawks fan?”

“Is there any other way to live?” he deadpans.

“Reason number five,” I mutter.

A pleased look overcomes him. “I find it fascinating that not one of those five reasons actually includes not being interested in me. So far, all I’m hearing are weak excuses.”

I try my hardest to maintain a chill façade. So much so that I’m left with absolutely zero chill on the inside. I hate myself for getting flustered over him and his persistence. His cockiness is growing old. Our eyes lock and I clear my throat. “Fine. Reason number six: I’m not interested in you.”

“If that were true, I’d accept it. But I’m not convinced.”That makes two of us.He searches my face for a moment, giving me a chance to backpedal.

“Don’t hold your breath, Scott. I don’t date guys like you. Period.”

He lets out a strangled laugh, glancing at a car passing by. “But you’ll accost me in changing rooms, though, right?”

I freeze, anger spiking. It’s bad enough he won’t let this go, but to say it in front of my conservative grandma? I scowl and shut the car door so Grandma Flo can’t hear us. “We aren’t talking about that. Stop bringing it up.”

“Are we just acting like it didn’t happen?”

It’s not necessarily that I want to act like it didn’t happen. But talking about it seriously affects my resolve. If I’m going to survive the four months until Flo and Martin’s nuptials without breaking my vow to myself and diving headfirst into trouble, I need to squash this sexual energy between us, and quick. “Yes. We are. As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen at all.”

He snaps his head back, his jaw tensing. “Alright. Fine.”

“Fine.”

He shakes his head, unable to leave it. “I am curious, though. You made such a big deal over me having a girlfriend, which means you care on some level. Am I wrong?”

He may not be a cheater, but it certainly doesn’t exclude him from being a player. Scott’s flirting is so natural, it must be the result of ample practice. And realistically, he has every right. He’s a single guy. He can do what he wants. But nothing positive can come out of this for me except inevitable tears and heartbreak. Just like with Neil.

I level him with a hard gaze. It’s time to drop the truth bomb. “Scott, you’re arrogant. You’re used to getting what you want in life because you’re hot and you know it. And the only reason you’re getting rattled right now is because I’m telling younoand you don’t wanna hear it. Either that or you’re too much of a Neanderthal to take the hint.”

---