Page 158 of How to Win the Girl

Holy shit, she’s gorgeous.

Simple and gorgeous, my eyes drinking in those long legs—they look like they’ve been shaved and tanned, her skin glowing.

Smooth.

Everything about her legs looks smooth, and I already want to touch them, my empty hands floundering as she approaches.

“I didn’t bring flowers,” I blurt out stupidly.

This isn’t prom, for fuck’s sake, and this isn’t a fancy occasion. We’re going to a damn dinner—but it sure feels like our first romantic date, andI should have fucking gone to the store and gotten her a bouquet.

I’m a dumbass. What can I say?

“It’s the thought that counts.” She laughs, stopping in front of me.

“A thought I didn’t think of.”

“Well.” Daisy has a handbag in her hands, clutched between her fingers and holding it in front of her body. She looks dainty and pretty, the freckles on her nose popping against her fresh-faced skin.

“You look very pretty.”

Her head dips. “Thank you. You look nice.”

Only because I stole one of the shirts from Drew’s closet. I had Ryann help me pick out a shirt, she hemmed and hawed over a blue button-down collared shirt and a polo, furiously debating over the two as if I were headed to a televised sports awards.

She chose the polo shirt, citing the day of the week and our early-ish reservations. She also suggested I get a tattoo on my arm, but that was irrelevant and didn’t help my nerves whatsoever.

Already she acts like a sibling.

Pain in my ass…

We’re quiet most of the way to the restaurant. I’m conscious of Daisy’s perfume and how she smells, and her hand resting on the center console of the truck.

Eventually, I take it, folding hers into mine.

If I thought I was nervous the last time I saw her, this feeling inside my stomach is thirty times worse. This should be no big deal. We already know we like each other, and we already know we get along.

So what’s different?

She’s all dressed up for once. That’s the difference. Usually when we’ve been hanging out, it’s more casual so we’ve been playful. This side of Daisy is sexy—the kind of low-key sexy she was at the fraternity party when I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, or my hands. But classy. Nor could I keep my face from between her legs. Some things you just cannot help.

I catch her smiling as we drive to the restaurant. The companionable silence is a nice change. It was a long fucking day. We’re still in the off-season, but that won’t last long. The coaching staff is already sending us schedules and planning all-team meetings. I met a few high school recruits this week who will be joining the team this year, but new faces and new blood doesn’t an easy win make.

We’re seated right away when we arrive, and I’m surprised how many people are here, considering it’s six in the evening, still early in my book.

We order drinks.

And bread.

forty-four

daisy

I’d consider shaving my legs for you.

Why ishe not looking at my boobs?

I feel slightly insulted that he’s being a gentleman, considering he is not a gentleman, not in the slightest.

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