Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
He raises a well-shaped brow. Actually, upon closer inspection, it’s perfectly sculpted. It makes me wonder if he let Brooke pluck it for him.
What a fucking pussy.
“Word of advice, if she gives you tacos, refrain from eating them. They’re probably poisoned.”
“Hardy har har. You’re hilarious.”
“No, really. Why are you heading over there?” He tosses his shoulder pads into his locker. “And where’s your truck?”
“Lola borrowed it,” I throw out casually. “I need to pick it up from her.”
His eyes widen. “Lola? Wait a minute…are you actually talking about taco girl?”
“Her name is Lola. Don’t you know it’s rude to refer to someone like that?”
With a snort, Crosby shakes his head.
I can’t help but grin. “Believe it or not, she agreed to tutor me.”
“Huh. Will wonders never cease. And here I thought after she nearly bit your head off at that party, there was no way in hell the two of you could be in the same room together.”
I shrug and spread my arms wide. “What can I say? I won her over with my good looks and charm.”
“Shocking.”
He picks up his athletic bag before hoisting it over his shoulder. “If you want a ride, get your ass into gear. I’ve got things to do.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah, right. “I know exactly what you gotta do. More like whom.”
He elbows me sharply in the ribs before grumbling, “Shut the fuck up.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter as we walk out of the locker room, pushing through the glass doors of the athletic center and into the cold night air. After a short walk to the parking lot, we slide into his Mustang.
A few seconds later, the engine purrs to life and we’re shooting onto the tree-lined streets near the university. Taco Loco is located about ten minutes away from campus. The way Crosby drives—kind of like he’s in a game of Grand Theft Auto—it’s more like seven. He swings into the parking lot with a squeal of the tires and pulls up to the front door before letting the vehicle idle.
“Thanks, man.” With my athletic bag and backpack in tow, I give him a wave before heading inside the restaurant.
Music hits my ears as I stroll past the hostess stand and find myself at the entrance of the dining room. My gaze coasts over the crowd, looking for one person in particular. It’s just after six o’clock and almost every table is filled with either families or hungry college students looking for a meal that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.
It doesn’t take long to locate her. For a few seconds, I watch her in action while she’s not aware of my perusal. There’s a serious expression on her face as she carries a tray loaded down with entrees. As soon as she reaches the table, her disposition transforms, and a smile curves her lips.
I rack my brain, trying to recall if she’s ever looked at me that way. Normally, I’m treated to a lot of scowling. A couple times, she actually growled. And once—if I’m not mistaken—she bared her teeth.
But a smile?
Nope, don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those directed at me. I watch as she passes out the plates and chats for a few seconds before swinging away. The girl is in a total zone. She’s all business.
And from what I’ve been able to see—no play.
Does she ever cut loose and have fun?
Her feet slowly grind to a halt as our gazes lock and hold across the space that separates us. In that second or two, a punch of need hits me square in the gut.
Or maybe it’s hunger.
Practice ran over and I’m fucking famished.
Because there’s no way I’m attracted to this prickly girl. I like my chicks nice and soft with kissable lips and fuckable bodies. Can you even imagine what she would do if I attempted to kiss her?
I almost snort.
Probably rip me to shreds.
With her teeth.
Instead of ignoring me—which is exactly what I expect—she pivots, changing directions. My gaze stays pinned to her as she cuts a path through the room. She might have grudgingly agreed to work with me, but it’s only because she needs her car fixed and has been left with no other options.
When she’s a couple feet away, she grinds to a halt. There’s a few seconds of silence as she tucks a stray lock of dark, silky hair that has escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. Is it strange that I’m tempted to knock her fingers away and do it myself?
I shake the errant thought away before it can take root and refocus on the reason I’m here.
“Hey,” she says, voice a little breathless and cheeks stained with color.
I rip my gaze away and jerk my chin, glancing around the dining area. “Looks busy.”
She follows my stare. “It’s always slammed at dinner. You should know that. You’ve been here enough times.”