The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)
Troy chuckles, and I meet his eyes over her shoulder while turning her back in the direction of my bedroom. “I better go strap her into bed.”
The looks we exchange are filled with need. And in his eyes, I see the promise of something more.
“I’ll see myself out. Night, pretty woman.”
“Night, neighbor.”
Kim’s NO-BAKE Billionaire Pie
Psychologist, Wisconsin
Makes 8 servings
20 minutes
2 Cups Powdered Sugar
1 Stick Butter
1 Large Egg
1/4 Tsp. Salt
2 8-Inch Pie Crusts
1/4 Tsp. Vanilla
2 Packages Dream Whip
1/2 Cup Pecans
1 Cup Pineapple – drained
Cream butter, sugar, egg, salt, and vanilla. Fill pie crusts with mixture. Follow directions on box and whip Dream Whip. Add pineapple and nuts to Dream Whip. Spoon into pies. Chill.
Clarissa
“It’s supposed to snow tonight,” I say folding some wrapping paper against a box.
“That’s cool.”
“It will be Dante’s first White Christmas.”
“I wish I would have known. I would have ordered a sled.”
“I’ve got cookie sheets that’ll work just fine, Mr. Engineer.”
He grins. “That’ll work too.”
Troy glances down at the directions before grabbing a training wheel and adding it to the bike he’s been constructing for the last fifteen minutes. I secure the last piece of tape on one of Santa’s gifts before arranging it beneath the tree.
“Need any help?” I slide over to where he sits in the middle of the living room.
“Sure,” he says absently. “Hand me that snap driver.”
“Got it,” I say, sorting through his toolbox. The toolbox he bought when he decided I needed a few repairs around the house. Since our night of home movies weeks ago, his season ended with only one more win killing all hopes of Texas Grand making the playoffs. And because he’s on winter break from school, he’s been pushing himself harder than ever. He’s restless, nervous about the invite to the NFL Combine, and no amount of assurance on my part seems to help. His whole future rides on the next few months, and so he’s been spending endless hours at the gym during the day before working the extra shifts he’s picked up at night. He’s bulked up, and it shows. His clothes cling to him, perfectly accentuating his insane build. He’s in a cream sweater and dark jeans and looks fucking mouthwatering. We’ve barely had any time alone since our almost kiss, and I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if Parker hadn’t interrupted the moment. Since then, it’s been lingering looks, and too brief kisses goodnight once he’s tucked Dante in. Tonight, I decided to pull out all the big guns, wearing a set of red silk pajamas and only a red thong beneath.
I’m waxed, spritzed, and buffed, in hopes of something other than a PG kiss goodnight. I have no idea where we stand, but I’m teetering on the brink of madness at this point.