Page 48 of Game Changer

I should resist.

Instead, I wrap my arms around her and return the hug, every soft curve of her body lining up against mine.

It feels good, holding her. Better than anything I’ve felt in a long time.

We’re not skin to skin but her heart hammers against mine, her warmth making me wonder how much is from the exercise and how much is from our proximity.

When I set her back down on steady feet, our faces are close—as close as they can be considering I'm a foot taller anyway.

“That was incredible,” she murmurs, her bright eyes so stunningly blue I could drown in them.

She’s not for me.

But with each smile, I believe it less.

I take a moment to soak her in and revel in our victory before turning away.

See? I can keep it together. Don’t need to grope her or kiss her or imagine what it would be like to hear her whisper, “That was incredible,” when I’m done fucking her senseless.

“Nova, you’re almost as good at basketball as you are at drawing,” Brooke comments.

The flush that crawls up her cheeks is from more than exertion.

My curiosity is piqued. “Drawing? What do you draw?”

“All kinds of things.”

Interesting.

“I’ll take a shot from anywhere in this half of the court. With my eyes closed. I make this shot, you show me everything,” I say.

Her face screws up. “From anywhere?”

I nod.

She positions me just shy of half court.

I size up the basket, then square my feet.

Everyone’s watching.

I shut my eyes and take a breath before sending the ball up.

I don’t need the hollers that erupt to know it went in.

12

NOVA

When I get back from the stadium, I park in the massive driveway before heading inside.

I told Clay I didn’t have my sketchbook on me and I’d show him another time.

The way he dragged my body against his, surrounding me with his heat, his length. Every nerve in my body was throbbing.

Not to mention how he made that basket with his eyes closed.

For an instant, I wasn't the girl who doesn’t matter lusting after the hot superstar.

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