Page 13 of Flame After the Fumble

I spin around from the drink machine, smacking him with my long hair in the process. His corded arms fold across his bulk chest leaving me staring like a fool. “Hartley. Are you stalking me?”

He chuckles before sticking his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. He looks absolutely devastating this morning in a worn, gray football t-shirt, hat flipped backward, and dimples out to play. “I wish.”

“Well, if you’re not following me, you must be here for pizza.”Awesome. Way to play it smooth, Liza. Of course, he’s here for pizza.

He reaches around my shoulder to grab a straw. “It would appear that way.”

“Yep.” I rock back and forth on the heels of my feet, not sure what to say to the man in front of me who manages to suck the air clean out of any room he walks into, apparently.

“I planned to take my mobile order calzone to go.” His eyes shift from mine to the order counter where Emberly waits for our pizza, blissfully unaware of my predicament. “But, now I’m inclined to stay and join my new friend for lunch.”

My cheeks flame at the thought of spending a casual lunch with the boy in front of me. “If you don’t mind crashing girls’ day. Then, sure.”

“Not a problem. I’ll grab us a table.” He saunters off across the small restaurant and settles into a worn booth by a window, sunshine reflecting off his golden skin and bright blonde hair. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and busies himself while I meet Emberly at the counter to fill her in on this SOS moment.

“9-1-1. I repeat, 9-1-1!” I whisper-shout into the shell of her ear.

She’s startled at my quiet approach. “Why did you sneak up on me?!”

“This is serious!” My eyes track from her to where Hartley has made himself comfortable, waiting for us to join him. “Look.”

She follows my eyes and is met with the sight of Hartley waving at us from the booth across the restaurant.

“Aww. He seems nice. Didn’t you agree to be his friend?”

I roll my eyes and regret my words from last night. He does seem nice, but boys who look like that and damaged girls like me are a recipe for disaster. “I did.”

“Okay. . .” she drawls out. “I’m not seeing a problem here.”

“Ugh! I guess you’re right, but the minute I go starry eyed, smack me in the head.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me?” She laughs as our order is dropped off on the counter. “Let’s go.”

Emberly holds the pizza and cheesy bread boxes while I carry our cold drinks to the booth Hartley selected for us.

“Hey.” He juts his chin out and reaches across the table to help Emberly grab the boxes before scooting in the torn booth. “Thanks for joining me. It would have been embarrassing to sit alone.”

“No problem,” Emberly giggles out.

“Order for Hartley!” The white-aproned restaurant worker slides a to-go box across the takeout counter. Pushing himself up from the booth, he takes his sweet time to retrieve his order from the counter. “Lunch with friends is better than lunch alone. Don’t you agree?” He winks as he slides back into the booth with his food.

I decide to change the subject into safer territory. Preferably one that doesn’t heat my cheeks and release butterflies in my stomach. “So, you’re a football player?”

“Wide receiver.” He cuts the corner of his calzone off and lifts his fork to his mouth as he licks the piece of cheese dangling out of the dough. My eyes zero in on his tongue, his lips, and those stupid dimples that keep popping up at the worst times. “What about you two?” He points the fork between Emberly and I. “What brought you all to Springs U?”

“Running away from my problems,” I huff out.

Emberly’s eyebrows shoot up at my response, surprised by my honesty. What she doesn’t know is that Hartley knows more about me than I’d like to admit after meeting him less than twenty-four hours ago.

He stares at me sweetly, a small grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m thankful you ran.”

Such a flirt.I nod and smile. “Me too.”

He directs his attention to my roommate who is now nursing her hangover with her second piece of greasy pizza. “What about you?”

“Oh. . .” She points to herself. “Me? I’m from here.”

His eyebrows raise in interest. “Really? Where’d you go to high school?”

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