Page 180 of Scoring the Player
“Y-yeah. And when Sid woke me up so I wouldn’t be late, I asked if he wanted to roll together. He was like, nah, ’cause Ty got in late. And I was like, let ol’ boy sleep, and he goes, ‘Who said I need to wake him up?’”
His mouth spreads into a lazy grin.
“Tell me that’s not hot,” I say.
“It’s hot,” he agrees.
“So, I’ll wake up on your dick soon?”
He wets his bottom lip. “Sure.”
If I wasn’t full, I’d rehearse it right now. “Sid called you hot.”
“That’s nice.”
“That’s it?Nice?”
His eyes flicker. “Yeah. Hot is nice. I preferfineorbeautiful.”
I roll my eyes. “You know you’re fine.”
He grins. “Fine just hits different. So, what now? He’s on the Watch List?”
My jaw separates. “You’re banned from talking to Anaïs.”
“Nah. That’s my homie. What did you say to Sid when he said I was hot?”
“I told him not to look at you.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“If he looked at me, then what?”
My jaw tics.
“I’d be waking him up on my dick in the morning inst—” he starts.
I fly out of my seat.
“What?” he whispers, his hands cupping my butt and settling me into his lap.
He tries to kiss me, but I clamp down on his lip.
He chuckles. “Always so violent.”
“Fuck these dimples.” I try to eat them, sticking my tongue and front teeth in. “Did the gift baskets start coming in?” I ask, pulling back.
Silence.
“Ugh,” I groan.
“Blue—”
“You’re too fine. I hate it.”
“Blue—”
