Page 13 of Personal Foul

“Yes,” she snaps. “You could have gotten hurt and then we would be fucked.”

“I wasn’t going to let you fall, mireina.”

She groans, dropping her head onto my chest. I trail my hand up and down her spine. Reagan looks at my chest and clicks her lips. “These are new,” she whispers while staring at my chest tattoo. She looks lower and gasps before groaning, “You have your nipple pierced.”

“Sweetheart, I need you to stop looking at me like that,” I warn.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you, because goddamn, do I want to.”

Reagan leans forward, her mouth hovering over mine, eyes on my lips. “Maybe it’s not a terrible idea.” She leans down and ghosts her lips over mine, not quite kissing.

I put my hand on the back of her head and roll us, putting her under me, settling between her luscious thighs. I lean forward and ghost my lips over her neck. I bite her earlobe and lick it. “I want a date, Reagan, one date.”

She lifts her hips, pushing into mine, breathing hard. “One?”

“One.” I push my hips into hers, making her groan.

“Okay, you win. One date.” She leans forward, licking my neck.

I roll off her and lay next to her on the grass. “Public, we’re in public,” I remind both of us.

“Holy shit,” she mumbles. “I just agreed to go on a date with you.”

“You did,” I gloat. “Are you free tonight?”

“I need to check my schedule.” She bites her lip. “But I think so.”

“What time can I pick you up?” I stand up and hold my hand out for hers. She slides her hand into mine and I pull her up.

“How about I meet you somewhere?”

“That works for me. Give me your number and I’ll text you a time and address.”

Reagan hands over her phone without question. I type in my digits before handing it back.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Reagan nods and heads towards the parking lot, finishing the loop we were running.

“Come here often?”

She quirks a brow. “Once a week. I like to switch it up.”

“This is the second trail I’ve tried. Doesn’t seem too bad. And the view is awesome sometimes.”

“It is.” We fall into silence. “So one nipple piercing…” She trails off.

“Yeah, I got it done as a dare. Ended up liking it, so I kept it in. I keep meaning to have the other done to match.”

“It was unexpected.” I look over at Reagan and see a slight blush on the apples of her cheeks.

“I never want to be predictable,” I tease, making her laugh.

“You are far from predictable, Garrett Stone.” She eyes my tattoo on my chest. “What’s up with that?”

I look down and point. “Obviously the year I was born.” I move to the cross. “A good Catholic bad boy can never have too many holy inspired tattoos.” Then lastly I point out. “Mi vida loca, my crazy life. Pretty fitting considering my life is anything but normal.” I shrug.

---