Page 172 of How to Lose at Love

3:52

Ugh. This feels like an eternity, and I contemplate if I could survive onNaked and Afraid, or any survival show for that matter, clothed or unclothed.

4:13

It’s a miracle I’m not shivering because this jacket isn’t exactly a parka, and this hat has a hole in the top, a tiny air pocket that tingles every now and again, reminding me that I need a new hat.

At 4:17, just as I check my watch for the fortieth time, a tall figure walks up, bag slung over his shoulders, wet hair rippling in the wind.

The sound of the truck unlocking has me shivering.

Dallas lays eyes on me.

His steps falter for a second before he continues moving toward me.

“You should have a hat on,” I blurt out as a greeting, unsure of anything else to say.

“You shouldn’t be standin’ in a parkin’ lot in the freezing cold.”

Shouldn’t be standin’ in a parkin’ lot in the freezing cold…

I shrug. “I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

I nod, stuffing my hands into my pockets, self-conscious and trepidatious.

Dallas stops when he reaches me, staring down, a confused look in his eye.

Or is that hope?

Suspicion?

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.”

He nods. “Wanna ride?” Grins.

Of course I want a ride.

Walking to the passenger side, I feel Dallas behind me, reaching around to pull the door open for me, pressing my back against the back seat window.

“Are you here because you saw the halftime report?”

My eyes widen. How does he know about that? Weren’t they busy getting screamed at in the locker room?

I nod.

Dallas leans in until our noses are close enough to touch, our breaths mingling. “I sure did miss you, Ryann Winters.”

My breath hitches.

“Mind if I kiss you?”

I shake my head.

Dallas leans closer, pressing his mouth against mine. His is warm and hot, and mine is…

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