Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Warmth blooms in my chest. “Well, aren’t you the sweet talker?”
“I’m stating a simple fact.” His brows draw together. “You didn’t have a bad experience, did you?”
“Why do men always assume the worst?”
“You’re getting it wrong. Men assume that to every problem there is a solution. State your problem, and I’ll find a solution.”
The tilt of his chin is so imperious, I want to laugh. But the earnest concern in his eyes is kind of cute. With a sigh, I tell him the truth. “Sex for me is complicated.”
“You confused about what goes where, darlin’?”
“That was payback, wasn’t it?”
“A little bit.” He grows serious. “Why is sex complicated?”
I draw a fry through a puddle of ketchup. “I have a problem with latex.”
“A problem?”
“It gives me a rash.” I glance down at my lap with meaning.
A look of sympathetic horror washes over his face. “Oh, shit.” He shifts around in his seat. “Yeah, say no more. Please.”
My lips quirk. “It started a year out of college. Suddenly, it was like my body was turning against me having casual sex.”
It turned against me in more ways than that, but he doesn’t need to hear everything.
“Killed the free love, eh?” Finn steals one of my fries and eats it. “There are nonlatex condoms, you know. Some of those ultrathin, barely there brands? They feel great . . .” He trails off with a slight flush. “The point is, options are available.”
I snort on a laugh. “Yeah, I know, but it became a kind of mental thing. I’d see the dude rolling on a condom, and my lady bits would seize up in remembered horror.”
He winces, and I nod.
“I knew those condoms wouldn’t irritate me, but my ladybird was all, Nope. That’s a no-fly zone.”
Finn snickers, but his gaze travels over me with thoughtful appraisal. “So that’s it for sex? God, please don’t tell me that.”
“No, but it’s become . . .”
“Complicated,” he finishes for me.
“I can protect myself from getting pregnant, and I do. But now I have to trust the guy when he says he’s clean. He has to trust me when I say I am, too. It’s just not a good casual sex situation.”
Finn nods in sympathy.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say. “I still have sex. Just not casual hookups. Which is a good thing, since I want to get to know the guy before having sex with him. I want a relationship.”
“I hear you.” But he still stares.
“I’m not a pity case.”
“Didn’t think you were.”
“I’m going to ping you with a fry if you don’t get that look off your face.”
Finn’s lips curl, but his gaze turns calculating. “You know, I’m clean—”
“No.”
“Consider it a ‘friend helping out a friend’ service—”
“No,” I say with more emphasis.
He grins. “Worth a shot.”
“I think we should refrain from talking about sex from here on out.” In truth, I have no interest in hearing about his hookups.
Finn lets out an expansive sigh. “Thank God for small mercies. I’ll keep thinking about your mournful pussy and want to comfort it.”
He looks so disgruntled that I roll my eyes and chuck a piece of fish at him.
Finn catches it midair, pops it into his mouth, and munches away without remorse. “Hey, Chess?”
He steals another fry off my plate.
“Yes, thief?”
“We’re hanging out again.”
The urge to giggle like a smitten schoolgirl is so strong, I bite my lip. What the hell? I’m a badass woman. A rock in the face of hot quarterbacks with cheeky smiles.
Yet, here I am, flushing with happy pleasure and grinning wide. “Yeah, we are.”
Lord help me, I’m in trouble.
* * *
“These shots are gorgeous, Chess.”
“Thanks. I’m happy with how they’re turning out.” I’m on the phone with Dani, the graphic artist who is laying out the charity calendar, and Meghan, who is in charge of publicity for Finn’s team.
Currently, we’re going through a set of photos that include Ethan Dexter, Rolondo Smith, Jake Ryder, and Finn. My first shoot, and the group of men who Meghan seems to be most interested in featuring.
“These guys are gorgeous,” she says now with a little, breathless laugh. “We really should have a shot featuring Manny flanked by his offensive line.”
I stare at the image on the massive screen I use when editing photos. Finn stares back at me. It’s a tight shot, from the waist up. He’s caught in a laugh, his smile self-deprecating and wry. There’s a light in his eyes, a charisma and confidence that draws you in and makes you want to get closer just to bask in his perpetual energy.
It’s been days since I’ve seen him. Enough time that I’d almost convinced myself our lunch by the lake had been a one-off. A nice memory for me to pull out every once in a while and think about fondly. Except he keeps sending me texts at random times, quick inquiries about my day or cute anecdotes about his.