Page 79 of Playbook
I thread one hand through her wet hair and deepen the kiss. Slowly her body slackens against mine. I capture a soft little hum that escapes. I want to hear it again, but then a voice of warning starts to go off in my head.She’s not yours, dickwad. You proved your point, now step away.
So I do, reluctantly.
Her lashes flutter open slowly. My hands are shaking as I bring them back down to my sides.
Sierra is gone and it’s just the two of us on display for her entire family.
“What was that for?” she asks, voice wavering.
I run my tongue over my bottom lip and then clear the lust from my head enough to move to the side and incline my head to where Chris had been before.
“Is he still watching?”
She scans the yard and then brings her gaze back to me. “Yeah.”
I clear my throat. I’m struggling not to ask her if she just wants to kick this party and go make out. She’s made her interest in pursuing anything with me pretty clear though. As in, she’s not at all.
So I shoot her the playful smile she expects from me. I’m not letting my penis ruin a nice gesture. Maybe.
“He’s been doing that shit to you all day. Every time you’re around he’s handsy and shit but when you’re not looking, he couldn’t care less.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“I’m serious.”
“That could just be a coincidence.”
“Maybe.” It’s not. I don’t believe that for one second. Especially after everything she told me earlier. He gets off on fucking with her.
Her stare drops to my lips then she holds up the still-wrapped popsicle. “Want one?”
“What flavor?” I ask. “Because I have a sudden craving for oranges.”
TWENTY-ONE
“London?”
I nearly collide with Brogan’s back as he stops walking and glances over his shoulder at me. The look on his face is a mixture of amusement and concern.
It’s a good look for him. Although right now he could look like an ogre and I might not notice.
“Yeah.” I blink several times and move my focus from the way his biceps strain against the white T-shirt to his face. He’s still in his red swim trunks and he pulled a ball cap on over his damp hair. The ends have dried and curled up. I desperately want to reach up and run my fingers through it.
I’ve been following him around the giant furniture store for half an hour while he picks out…I don’t even know because all I can think about is that kiss.
Thatkiss.
My stomach flips at the memory.
“I made it weird, didn’t I?” he asks, then curses under his breath.
“Huh?” My brain still isn’t functioning normally.
He takes off the hat and runs a hand through his hair because apparently he can read minds and wants to mess with me. “Fuck, I’m sorry I kissed you. I just couldn’t stand the thought of your asshole ex playing you like that after he was such a jerk while you were together. Who the fuck cheats on a woman like you?”
“It’s not weird,” I say too quickly. It totally is.
And judging by the “the fuck it isn’t” expression on his face, he knows it is as well as I do.
