The Jock Script (The Script Club 3)

“I don’t understand those words,” I mumbled to myself. “Is it like lacrosse?”

“No, it’s totally different. I probably like lacrosse more because I’m better at it than hockey. That’s my ego talking, though. We tend to pump up what we’re good at and what we enjoy. Like you with space stuff.”

I frowned as I twisted in my seat. “That’s not the same at all. Space isn’t a sport, it’s fact. It’s science.”

“Is it, though? How do we really know how many planets are in the solar system?”

My mouth fell open. “We’ve seen them. We have evidence.”

“Do we? Could be stars that pass as planets and vice versa. Just sayin’.”

“Stars and planets are very different entities. A star is a ball of gas that generates energy due to atomic fusion. That’s how it emits light. A planet may be composed of gas and rocky material, but it does not generate fusion. And it orbits a star and must be of a certain size to be classified as—” I stopped abruptly and narrowed my gaze. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

Of course, he was. His shoulders shook with laughter.

“Yes, I’m kidding. I had to get you to snap out of it. Your anxiety transfer is killing our vibe. I’m not going to be able to form a complete sentence with your mom. She’s gonna think I’m a dopey jock. And I’m not.”

“I know you’re not. My mom is very good at reading people. She’ll sense that you’re quite accomplished even before she knows that you’re a mathematician.”

“Thanks.” Blake smiled. “So…what’s she like?”

“She’s brilliant and beautiful and probably the nicest person I know.”

“Like you?”

No doubt he was teasing me again. I rolled my eyes in response, though I doubt he noticed as he navigated around slower-moving cars.

“I’m brilliant, but—”

“And don’t forget modest,” he intercepted.

“Hmm. But I’m not beautiful, and I’ve been told I’m too honest to be considered nice.”

“I think you’re pretty cool. And your honesty is why we’re here in the first place,” he commented. “So maybe you do take after her.”

“Maybe.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said—” I pointed at the two-inch crack in his window letting traffic noise whoosh into the SUV. “That’s why you can’t hear me.”

Blake rolled up the window and promptly sneezed. “Do you have any tissue?”

I pulled a tissue from my tote bag and handed it over just as another sneeze attack hit him. “Are you ill?”

“No, I’m allergic.”

“To what?”

“Strong scent.”

I gasped. “Oh, no. It’s me! It’s my cologne. What should I do?”

He sneezed again. “Can you take your shirt off?”

“Uh…yes, but what will I wear? I can’t walk into my mom’s house without a shirt.”

“I have a clean tee in my workout bag.” Sneeze. “I’ll give it to you as soon as I park.”

“Okay.” I pulled my T-shirt over my head and threw it onto the back seat. “Will that help?”

“I think so. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry. I overdid it.” I crossed my arms self-consciously. “Good news…we’re almost there. Bad news…I feel naked.”

Blake slowed as the 10 Freeway turned into Highway 1, and he stopped at the first red light. He gave me a thorough once-over, lingering on my chest for a long moment. Then he closed his eyes briefly and let out a ragged breath. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“I didn’t mean to. The cologne was a bad idea.”

“Christ, Ash. It’s not the cologne.” He made a right and lucked out when someone pulled out of a space in front of my mother’s condo complex.

“What is it?” I asked in a small voice.

Blake parked his truck and shifted sideways. “It’s you. Or maybe it’s me.”

“I don’t understand.”

His gaze traveled over my face, fixating on my mouth. “Yes, you do. Come on. We should go.”

Blake

I left all the windows cracked open and buried Ash’s cologne-soaked shirt under a stack of math books. I fished a Pepperdine Lacrosse Club T-shirt from my workout bag and handed it to him before grabbing my toolbox, biting back a smile when Ash pulled the tee over his head and nearly drowned in the excess fabric. Fuck, he was cute.

And hot…and I was fucking screwed. I wanted this guy more than I’d ever wanted anyone. I’d thought we were doing so well at this friend thing, but then again, you weren’t supposed to jack off to visions of your friend on his knees, begging for your dick like I’d done every night this week. Or were you? The rules were getting murky.

I wasn’t sure what we were doing anymore.

Asher and I were friends for sure, but the desire hadn’t faded. In fact, it was stronger than ever. God, I felt light-headed and woozy just walking next to him. Was that normal? I didn’t know, but I had to act normal in front of his mom. In theory, that was a piece of cake. I was an expert at feigning indifference when it came to attraction.