Page 53 of Courtside

“Which one should I try?”

“Probably the blueberry.” She turned around, ready to warn him about the —

“Jesus!” David shouted as bubbling kombucha exploded from the lid of the glass bottle, flooding over his hands and soaking the front of his t-shirt in the pale purple drink. He held the bottle away from his body as he rushed to stand over the sink. “What the hell was that?”

She tried not to laugh.

She really fucking tried.

But David looked at her with a mixture of horror and betrayal, like she’d set him up for this ultimate humiliation. Laughter burst from her chest, loud and without constraint.

“I,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “I was trying to warn you, but you were too fast!”

His face glistened, and his exhaustion enhanced his appeal, deepening his features and making him appear rugged, and, somehow, even more handsome. She wished, with a sharp and almost painful yearning, that he was someone different.

She watched as his tongue swept over his bottom lip, catching a stray droplet of kombucha. His brows arched up, allowing the light to illuminate his dark eyes. “At least it tastes good,” he admitted, his mouth curving into a reluctant smile. “It’s really damn sticky, though.”

Sage jumped into action, wetting a towel and tossing it to him. She looked down at his soaked shirt, grimacing.

“Let me go find you a shirt,” she said as she ran to her room. She looked through her t-shirts, quickly finding the largest one she had.

When she returned to the kitchen, David had obviously tried to mop up the spilled kombucha. “Here.” Sage handed him the green t-shirt.

David held the shirt up against his body. “This won’t fit,” he grumbled, frowning down at himself.

“Trust me. It will.”

David gave her an exasperated look, but, with a sigh, reached back to pull his wet shirt over his head.

Sage’s mouth dropped open.

Fuckingfuck.

She knew he was big. She’d seen his back, shoulders, and biceps straining against his clothing. But to see the curve of his shoulders bare? To see the dark hair that swirled across his chest and continued down his broad stomach? The trail that disappeared below the waistband of the sweats that hung below his hips?

Her skin prickled, her cheeks heated, andfuckif she didn’t want to lick him. Everywhere. Why, of all of the things she could do with him,lickingcame to mind, she had no fucking idea.

He was just so…big. And as a woman who’d spent the majority of her life towering over those around her, the thought of this man doing things to her body with his body made her…

She shuddered, trying to gather herself as he pulled the t-shirt down, tugging it over his torso. She’d been right. It fit him well, even offering a little extra wiggle room.

“What?”

She glanced up, finding him watching her with a guarded expression. There was even a hint of color on his cheeks.

“You’re just…” She waved her hand at his upper body.

David’s eyes dropped down. “It’s rough, I know. I’ve got to be better about what I eat, and —”

“You’re really, really fucking hot,” Sage interrupted, unable to keep her thoughts to herself at the sight of this man — this powerful, attractive man — deluding himself to think that he was anything other than perfect. “When I read novels about hot cowboys they’re always described as being big, hairy men, and I mean, I always imagine them in my head. But you’re it. You’re like a fantasy straight out of a book, and I’m having a very hard time keeping my shit together when you look likethat.”

David’s gaze rose up to meet hers and his lips parted, still wet from where he’d licked the kombucha away. “Damnit, Lefty,” he said roughly, shaking his head. “You can’t say things like that.”

“I’ll say whatever I want,” Sage teased, crossing her arms over her chest.

His brow furrowed as he looked down at the shirt again. “Does this seriously say ‘Kale Yeah!’ on it?”

“It was a gift from my old roommate, Mary. Apparently the fact that I eat a lot of kale is one of my most noteworthy personality traits.”

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