Dirty Curve

My frown is instant and I look away. “Yeah. He’s ... what men are made of, I guess.”

“And what’s that?”

I shrug, flipping my phone in my lap. “Good at everything he does. Not a bad bone in his body, not a selfish or egotistical one either.” Dropping my head back, I squash a sigh. “The kind that goes out of his way to please but not for notoriety, but because his conscience meter is set to perfection.”

“Kind of like what you’re doing for Joe and Franny?”

My lips curve the smallest bit, and I move my eyes to hers.

Her smile is small, as if she gets it, as if she understands what it’s like to work toward one thing but forever being seen as another.

Less than.

Or maybe I’m being a bitch and am making up the curiosity that’s softened her eyes.

Bailey begins rubbing at her eyes, and I wonder, “Is she getting tired?”

Meyer nods. “Normally she’s up for another hour but she didn’t nap long today so who knows how the night will go now.”

As I look over again, Bailey’s eyes find mine, growing heavier by the second, but she doesn’t fuss or cry. She tucks her hands in and lets them close, and something inside me grows warm.

Every couple minutes, they pop back open, but eventually her little fingers relax and her breathing grows steady.

“I think she’s sleeping,” I whisper.

When Meyer doesn’t respond, I look up to find her watching me, a distant look in her eyes. “Meyer.”

She blinks, refocusing. “Hm?”

“She’s asleep.”

Meyer nods, slowly pushing to her feet as she mouths, ‘be right back.’

I use the time to put our bowls back into my bag, while grabbing my other one and making my way back out to the patio, but when I round the corner, Meyer is standing at the foot of the couch, preparing to sit.

“I had to put the monitor on the charger and it’s getting a little too cold to keep the door open.” Her lips tighten, and she holds a hand out. “The heater’s kind of pathetic, so ...”

I’m nodding before she finishes and drop down with my bag in my hand before she does herself.

“Right,” she whispers, reaching for her laptop, but I dart a hand out to keep her from grabbing it, and her eyes fly to mine.

I pull out the book I borrowed from Echo’s collection, placing it into her hands instead.

Slowly, she takes it, confusion blanketing her face.

“I hear it’s not good to overstudy.”

She chuckles, glancing at the cover once more. I think she’s trying to decide how she’s supposed to feel or react, but what she doesn’t realize is her mind’s decided for her.

The girl’s already settled more into her seat, and the grin on her face is one of anticipation. “This book’s been read before.” She looks to me expectantly.

“Stole it from my roommate, he’s got a good two dozen where that came from.” My eyes roam over her profile. “When’s the last time you read for fun?”

Meyer shrugs.

“Read to me, Tutor Girl.”

She scoffs a laugh, but when I don’t follow, she pauses to study me. I want to grab her by the waist and pull her into me, feel her ass against my lap while staring into her eyes as they come closer. Grow darker.

Watch her come undone and be the one to make it happen.

But I can’t, at least not yet, so I say it again, “Read to me, Tutor Girl.”

She chews on that lower lip of hers, and in the next moment, cracks the thing open. “Chapter One.”

CHAPTER 17

Avix Inquirer:

Trusted Readers, we need your help!

Word on the street is our Playboy Pitcher is ‘playing’ a little less, but we’re not buying it.

Find him, Sharks ... I dare you.

Tobias

“Now that was a fucking game!” Neo shouts, banging his hands against the metal lockers. “You served them their ass, Cruz!”

I smirk, tossing my jersey into the laundry bucket. “You thought not?”

Neo laughs, turning to X.

“And my boy here with that hard ninety!” He lifts him onto his shoulder. “We’re gonna show them Cal Poly boys how real coastal boys play ball!”

The team grows rowdy, shouting while stomping the ground and slapping the metal in front of them.

“Let’s get through this next series, then we pity the poor punks who have us coming at ‘em next.”

“Don’t shit on our parade, Cruz, just ‘cause you’re bailing on it again.”

“Have one for me, huh?”

“I’ll have two for you, my man.”

Echo steps up then, leisurely tugging his jersey over his head. “You really not coming out with us again tonight?”

“Nah, man. Can’t.”

He raises a brow. “Can’t or don’t want to?”

“Both?”

He laughs, shoving at me. “Just be careful, my man. For your sake and hers.”

“Heard, my man.”

He jerks his chin, heading off toward the showers, and I’m out.

I round the corner, digging my phone from my pocket.