Page 60 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Gio: Distracted by a certain loudmouth in the stands.

I hesitate for half a second before adding:A sexy, little loudmouth.

Austin: Oh, please. I’m your biggest motivator. That’s why I’m paid the big bucks to be there.

I grin.

Gio: Thanks for coming.

Austin: Well, you’re welcome. But honestly it’s because you made me that offer I couldn’t refuse—aka: anything I want, remember?

As if I would forget. She’s got a way of keeping me on my toes, always pushing, always challenging. It’s addicting.

Gio: Right. Have you decided what that ‘anything’ is?

This time, there’s a pause. A long one. Long enough that I check my phone twice to make sure the message was actually sent. Finally, the dots appear, and my stomach does this ill-feeling flip I’m not sure I’m okay with.

Austin: Maybe.

I roll my eyes, already knowing where this is going.

Gio: Great, you’re being cryptic. LOVE that for me.

Austin: You’ll love it when I tell you.

Gio: You’re such a pain in the ass.

It’s true—since we met face-to-face she’s been a total pain in my ass.But she’s also the reason I’ve been grinning like an idiot since that day, too.The reason my heart races every time my phone gets a new notification. The reason I’m sitting here, wondering what it is about her that makes everything feel just a little bit brighter.

I want to see her face, not just see her name.

Without overthinking it, I hitVideo Chatand settle into the couch cushion, bracing for the possibility that she might not even pick up.

It rings once.

Twice.

On the third ring, the screen shifts, and there she is. Her hair is fanned out across a bright, white pillow, and the annoyed expression on her face is undercut by how utterly gorgeous she looks.

“You are not seriously video chatting me with no advance warning,” she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the screen.

I pat myself on the back for interrupting her with no warning.

“I like surprises.”

“I don’t,” she grumbles some more, adjusting the angle of her phone. “I could’ve been in the middle of something, you know.”

“Like what?” I ask, raising a brow. “You’re already in bed.”

“Exactly.”

My grin is shameless. “I love the sound of that.”

Tell me more.

“This is so invasive,” she continues complaining.

“Invasive?” I repeat, laughing as I adjust my phone, trying to find a comfortable angle. “You answered, didn’t you?”

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