Page 174 of How to Lose at Love

She nods. “That’s an understatement.”

“I, uh, heard from Duke that Posey called you. How did that go?” Not sure if I should apologize for that, too?

“Actually, she really shed some light on how all of this works.” Ryann gestures around the room, eyes settling back on me. “Basically she let me know that in order to let things slide as far as the public is concerned, I’d need to really want to date you…and know the trouble is worth the reward.”

The trouble is worth the reward.

I like that.

Have never heard it put like that. “So I’m the trouble then?”

She nods, biting her lower lip. “Guess so.”

“And you’ve decided I’m worth it?”Is that why you were standing out in the cold, in the parking lot?

Her head nods again.

I spread my legs, arms extending, inviting her to step forward and into a hug.

I embrace her, sticking my nose between her breasts, into the puffy fabric of her jacket, needing her to take it off and stay a while.

I lean back to unzip it.

Work it down off of her and let it drop to the floor, pulling her in again, arms squeezing her hips.

“I missed you,” I mumble into her stomach, face level with her sternum.

“I missed you too.” Ryann’s face is on my head, nose nuzzling my crown. “I do think you’re worth it.” Her fingers rake through my thick hair. “I was really hurt when that picture was posted, but I was only thinking of myself.”

Human nature.

Her nails skim my nape, and if I were a cat, I’d begin purring. I’ve never had a girlfriend or someone to come home to after a game who wanted to comfort and take care of me, and I’m basking in this attention.

Who knew?

Most people want something from me, and most people think I’m worth it, but those people? They see dollar signs. My agent, my teammates, the dudes who want to hang out with me, and women too.

That’s just how it’s always been and I’ve gotten used to it, so this? This thing with Ryann feels entirely different in a good way.

Her hands in my hair feel like more than a simple massage—it’s a gentle, nurturing caress.

I lean back, bringing her along with me.

We fall onto the bed, Ryann atop me.

Face to face, our noses are centimeters apart, breaths mingling as if we were making out. It’s intimate and foreign.

She kisses the tip of my nose.

The side of my mouth.

The corner of my eyes, which is an odd yet satisfying spot to be kissed.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she whispers when she’s done.

My stomach growls. “Not for food.”

Liar.

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