“I’m not kissing you...” I say, but I sort of run out of words, because as irritated as I am with him right now, he’s so damned handsome that it stuns me.
“Again?” Ty speaks the word for me, his eyebrows raised. “You mean again, because baby, you already kissed me. Please say you haven’t forgotten it.”
“Oh…my god. You did not just call me baby,” I’m starting to wonder if I imagined all earlier versions of Ty, because this one is not impressing me.
I sink my focus back into my phone, playing one of those stupid games that I’m sure I’ll obsess over and sit awake at night trying to master. Several seconds pass before Ty finally leans over into me with a nudge. “Baby hater,” he says. I fight it at first, but a small snort laugh squeaks out through my smirk. “There she is.”
My first instinct is to roll my eyes, but as soon as my vision locks onto his face, I’m reminded of the fact that there’s something about him I also find irresistible. “Your smile…is breathtaking,” he says—all traces of his crass jokes from before, gone. We stare into each other for several more seconds, and he’s the first to break. “So, no circle-mingling for you? What, bad Girl Scout camp experience?”
“Ha,” I snicker. “You’re half right. Soccer camp. And yes, it was the worst. I hate forced icebreakers. You?”
“Well, I’m not exactly built for square dancing,” he says with a slight shrug, gesturing to the circles of people grouped out on the gym floor, all linking arms, walking in circles, and giving each other these uncomfortable-looking back massages. “You should be out there, though. You might meet someone.”
“I’m good here,” I say, letting my smile linger in a way I hope like hell looks sexy from his perspective. His pause signals that it might.
“So, Cass Owens is a soccer player, huh? You mentioned that during our workout. You still play?” he asks.
“Gave it up,” I shrug. “It was a high-school thing for me.” I stay away from the details, but he watches me closely as I speak, and I get the sense he’s trying to tell if I’m bluffing with my words. I’m not—not entirely, at least. I did give it up, and it was a high-school thing. But I miss it. My stupid body doesn’t like that kind of exertion, though, and even if it could handle it, my parents’ marriage couldn’t take me rebelling against what makes my mother comfortable. So the deal was I get to study exercise in college, but my shin guards and soccer cleats get hung up for good.
I look out at the circles of people and catch Rowe’s attention. I’m pleased to see she’s right next to Nate. Paige is on the other side of the gym. It’s not that I’m rooting against my sister, but I just feel compelled to root for Rowe in this. Nate seems like a good guy, and Rowe reminds me of me. And I guess I want to know one of us can get the prince in the end.
“It’ll happen again. Just so you know,” Ty says, his voice bringing me back from my trance.
“What, me? Soccer? I doubt it,” I say, not doing a very good job at masking the sadness in my response. Ty’s eyes stay on mine as I try to work my lips back into a natural-looking smile. His mouth pushes into a tight line as he draws in a deep breath and slowly starts to nod his head.
“I was talking about me trying to kiss you. But now, I sort of feel like a dick, so…” he says raising his brow and clapping his hands together in his lap. “Yeah, uh…hey, I know. How about I just help you get back into soccer-shape instead, and we’ll see about walk-on tryouts in a few months?”
I’m not sure what I’m struck by more—the fact that he’s so hell-bent on kissing me again, or the fact that he thinks he can get me back out on the field. I start to smile and open my mouth to respond when I hear a few people scream in front of us and turn to see Nate lifting Rowe in his arms, then laying her flat on the floor.
“Shit! I think she just passed out!” Ty says, pushing forward, but stopping before the thick crowd of onlookers. I work my way in and urge people to give her space. Her eyes are already blinking, but she seems disoriented.
“She’s totally faking,” Paige says behind me.
“I don’t think so,” I say in return, watching my new friend have a full-blown panic attack on the gym floor. It takes several seconds for Rowe to realize she’s safe, and after she comes to, we lift her to stand. Nate is glued to her side the entire walk back to our dorm.
“Drinks in our room?” Ty asks everyone, but his eyes are on me. I shouldn’t go. I’ve had one night of partying already, and a second—in a row—is probably a bad idea. Paige is already squealing, though, and Rowe is walking a little slower behind us with Nate, so it all seems to come down to me. I nod a small yes, and Ty responds with a grin that stretches his entire face. Somehow, all I notice is the way his beard has grown into this really sexy stubble that only makes the dimples stand out more.