Page 246 of Scoring the Player
I pull back from Blue. “Reese, right?”
He spins, lifting his golden wings that shimmer against his brown skin. “The one and only.”
I grin. “Hit me with the gold dust.” It’s hard to resist, given the way it sets his skin aglow.
Blue laughs as Reese pulls out one of those vintage-looking perfume bottles with a pump, rolls back a few feet, then sprays gold dust along my cheekbones.
He appraises his work and winks. “You, honey?” he asks Blue, who surprises me again by asking, “You got black liner?”
Reese pulls out a sheet that has thin black strips that look like stickers, peels two off, and tapes one each along the rim of Blue’s eyelids.
I groan. “How am I gonna skate if I can’t look anywhere else tonight?”
Reese laughs as Blue blushes while pulling out his wallet and tipping him.
“Come here, vampire angel.” I drool as I pull him forward. For a split second, he forgets he’s on skates. “It’s okay,” I encourage him. “Just look at m?—”
His body twists, eyes squeezing shut, as a gust of human barrels in from my right. I try to spin as I’m slammed sideways. Clutching the air, I lose Blue as my skates slip out from under me, and I wipe out. Blue lands with a thump next to me, choking with laughter, with a guy sprawled on his stomach, blubbering an apology.
After several failed attempts, we manage to help each other up.
Blue wipes his eyes as the guy skates away. “That was fun.” He takes my hand. “Let’s do it again.”
We do it again. Two more times. Once, when we try to slow dance together, and again when he tries skating backward and freaks out when someone whizzes past him.
But we find our groove.
Stopping for milkshakes, we camp out in front of the tall industrial windows with a view of the lit-up Manhattan Bridge.
Fighting over the final sip, I try to lick it out of his mouth and quickly forget about the milkshake. When we come up for air, he turns toward me with an oat-milk mustache and says, “Last one on the floor can’t come until tomorrow night.” Then he takes off.
“Cheater!” I call out.
I toss the shake container and race after him.
CHAPTER 61
ARNAZ
“How are you feeling about hugs?” Salem asks.
“Huh?”
“They may ask to hug you. If you’re not in the mood, I’ll tell them. They won’t be offended.”
I inhale, the breath feeling snagged in my chest. “And if they don’t ask?”
“They will.” He caresses my thigh. “Pull in up there.” He nods toward a corner spot in the circular driveway. I peer out at the two-story home with green vines framing the windows.
“But if they don’t”—I clear my throat—“would it mean they don’t like me for you?”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he says, brushing it off.
I park and kill the ignition. “You don’t think?”
“Hey.” He shifts toward me. “I love you. They’ll love you.”
I peer back at the house with its shingled roof and rectangular windows. A sparkle of light to the right of the door has me leaning forward for a closer look. “Are those rainbow wind chimes?”
