Play Maker (Bitsberg Knights Duet)

I smiled. “No. I can assure you, you’re not.”

He chuckled before taking a deep breath. “I mean, asking a girl out. I’m not Mr. Sauvé, but I’m also not some asshat who’s going to break your heart should you even entrust me with it.”

I felt my eyes go wide. For a guy who claimed to not know what he was doing, he did it quite well.

“I really like hanging out with you, Shelby. I know we just met, but you’re fun. And you’re not afraid of this God-awful weather. Oh,” he put his finger up in an aha moment gesture, “and you’re hella smart.”

My cheeks heated up at his compliment. “Thank you. I like hanging out with you too.”

I tipped my chin up, quickly meeting his lips again. This time, the kiss lingered. His lips tentatively explored mine at first, but when I opened up to him, his velvet smooth tongue wasted no time sweeping the curves of my lips and tangling with my own in a gentle dance that set every nerve on fire. Ross’s hand slipped from the side of my face and slid down my arm until he found my waist. He tugged me closer, across the center seat, until I was lost in his arms, the kiss getting even deeper as our bodies smooshed together. A soft moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to explore the side of my neck.

“You’re amazing, Shelby,” he said, his words a warm whisper against my skin. “And beautiful,” he added. His warm hand roamed over my hips, squeezing lightly, and I blinked a few times, desperately trying to clear the fuzzy stars from behind my eyes.

I cleared my throat and pulled away, bracing my hands against his rock-solid chest to put some space between us. Mostly to keep me from jumping onto his lap and impaling myself on his cock.

Ross met my eyes, his own looking even darker than before as they went wide under the soft lights from the dash. “Let’s get you to your car.”

“Good plan,” I said, my words wavering as I caught my breath.

Going slow with a guy like Ross was going to be torture, but I needed not to lose my head and, in the process, get my heart trampled over.

I sneaked in through the front door of my parents’ house at a little after one in the morning. I shut the door gently behind me, made sure the security system didn’t go off, and tiptoed to my bedroom. I’d made it halfway there before the sound of footsteps coming from the other side of the hallway stopped me cold. With a wince, I pivoted on my heels and spotted my mother in her long terry cloth bathrobe, her long hair piled up on top of her head and her rectangular framed glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Hi, Mom.”

She arched a perfectly manicured brow. “How was the game?”

“Despite the fact that I felt like I’d been sucked into a time warp back to my junior year of high school? It was great. Really exciting. And cold.”

My mom laughed. “All right, tell me what’s going on with you and this boy.”

I started to protest, but she shot me one of her famous mother-knows-best looks and reached an arm out. “Come on. I just made some hot cocoa.”

We went into the kitchen where the electric kettle was still steaming. I sat on one of the three wooden stools at the kitchen island as my mom made two cups of instant cocoa. She pushed one across to me, and I smiled down at the sprinkling of miniature marshmallows she’d placed in the foamy chocolate. “Really trying to butter me up here, huh?” I asked, pursing my lips as I waited for an inevitable onslaught of questions.

She smiled and sipped at her own mug as she leaned back against the counter, clearly beating me at my own game by patiently waiting for me to break the silence.

“I don’t know what there is to say. He’s a really nice guy. It’s almost weird how normal he seems.”

“Seems?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. When we first met at the diner, I didn’t know he was a football player. You know me, I’m not the type to date the jock or whatever. It’s never been my thing. My type.”

“But?”

A smile tugged at my lips, and I stifled it with a long sip of my cocoa. “Ross’s kind of amazing.”

“Uh oh,” my mom replied, grinning at me even as she slowly shook her head. “You’re a goner. As soon as you start throwing around words like amazing, I know it’s serious.”

I laughed and set my mug down. “How could it be serious? We just met. We went on one date.”

“Your father and I only dated for three months before he proposed. Sometimes you just know.”