Page 13 of Play It Off

I snort, reach for my beer, and take a couple of swallows. Wishing I had something stronger to drink. “You aren’t that mean, Freckles.”

She jerks her head up, her mouth turned downward. “What did you call me?”

“Freckles.” I shrug, wondering if I stepped too far. “You’ve got a lot of them. It’s an obvious nickname.”

That frown doesn’t budge. “You guys usually call me Annie.”

Annie. For Little Orphan Annie, which I always thought was dumb. Someone came up with the nickname—I don’t know who—but Nico ran with it. Though I haven’t heard him say that in a while.

“I don’t think I’ve ever called you Annie in my life,” I tell her.

“You’re right.” The frown fades, replaced with the tiniest smile. “You haven’t.”

Pushing the cracker box out of the way, I lean across the island like I’m trying to get closer to her, and hey, maybe I am. “You’ve been busy, Sienna.”

“I have.” She nods.

“And I’ve been busy too. I never thought you were purposely ignoring me.” Lies. All lies. Since that night in her dorm room when she was a sweet little drunk freshman and I kissed her and touched her like I wanted to fuck her—news flash, I did—I’ve tried to stay away from her out of respect for her feelings. I’m not outwardly rude, because I likethe girl far too much, but I did my best to keep my distance because, damn it, I’m a gentleman.

Despite the fact that all I can think about is defiling her in every way possible every time I’m near her, I am a gentleman who stays away. I’m not about to corrupt her with a few nights of hot and heavy sex because, knowing me, that’s as long as it’ll last. I can’t commit. I’m that asshole who refuses to be in a relationship. The ones I’ve witnessed—mainly my parents’—are a mess. It’s better to be alone. I don’t need anyone.

Not really.

“Oh. Well, I definitely thought you were ignoring me.” Her voice is like a song, and her smile is extra sweet. “But that’s okay. I was ignoring you too. It’s just ...”

“Easier?” I offer when she doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes.” She nods. “Easier.”

“I say we call a truce.”

“Were we ever fighting, Gavin?”

I like it when she says my name. Everyone calls me Gav or QB or Captain, and I don’t mind. But Sienna never really calls me anything but Gavin. With the exception of that night when she got so drunk and started calling me Gav. There had been sarcasm in her tone, though. Almost as if she hated calling me that.

I don’t know. My biggest issue with Sienna is I can never quite figure her out. She’s like a puzzle I can’t solve—no matter how many times I try to, all I want is more.

More time with her. More time talking to her. Looking at her. If I finally gave in to my urges, would I figure her out? Would my curiosity be satiated and I could move on? I want to believe that’s all it would take, but I don’t know. There’s something about her that’s ...

Addicting.

“No, we weren’t fighting,” I answer when I realize I haven’t said anything. “But I think we could stand a do-over.”

“A restart?” she suggests.

“Exactly.” I stretch my arm out. “Shake on it?”

She drops her gaze to my hand before looking at me again, those velvety brown eyes drinking me in. Her face is striking. I remember what those lush lips tasted like. How soft her cheeks were. How soft she was everywhere. The subtle freckles that are sprinkled across her nose and how more appear during the summer.

“I don’t know, Gavin.” Her voice is cautious. “Sometimes it’s easier for me to pretend that you don’t exist.”

The pain her statement brings me is crushing. I drop my hand and push away from the island, curling my arms in front of me and going into pure defensive mode. I hate acting like an asshole, and I try my best to be the good guy in all situations, but sometimes my true nature comes barreling out as if I can’t help myself.

“We can keep up the pretense, then, if you’d like,” I snap, feeling like a dick the moment that the words leave my mouth.

Another pained sigh leaves her, and she rounds the island until she’s standing in front of me, holding out her hand. “Fine. Let’s be friends.”

Her voice is like a dare. A challenge that I’m eager to accept.

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