Jock Row (Jock Hard #1)(10)

His head gives a slow shake. Tsks. “It’s going to be a really long night if you keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Begging to get back inside. It’s pitiful and annoying. Text your damn friends.”

“I’m not begging. I’m asking.”

His eyes leave the screen of his phone, raking my torso up and down with a dismissive brow. “It’s begging—I know what the difference is, and you’re being irksome.”

Damn. The fact that he just used the word irksome?

Kind of a huge turn-on.

“I thought determination was an admirable quality.” I sound pitiful, even to my own ears. “Surely you of all people can appreciate that.”

“Only when used in the right circumstances,” he grumbles after a long pause. “Like, say—warmer circumstances.”

“If…” I root around in my brain for something intelligent to say, to gain equal footing, but end up with, “If you don’t let me back inside, I’m calling the cops.”

Ugh, why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“Be my guest, call the cops.” He takes a loud, slurping sip of the beer he’s been holding in his hand. “Tell them Rowdy Wade sent you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Trust me, doll face, I’ve been called worse.”

“Oh god—do not call me doll face.”

“What should I call you then? I know you don’t take kindly to Cock Blocker as an endearment.”

I stomp my foot, frustrated. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Uh, okay.” He mutters Jesus Christ under his breath like it’s an oath, the bright light from his phone illuminating his sharpening features.

I backpedal.

“I’m sorry. I just…” Feel helpless out here on the porch. “This night isn’t going anything like I planned. I haven’t been to a party in forever and I just wanted to have fun tonight, that’s all.”

“I bet…” he beings slowly, “when you were in high school, you were one of those girls who used to raise their hand during class to ask the teacher for extra credit.”

The “So?” slips out, and I groan while face-palming myself.

“So? No one liked those girls.”

My chin hitches up a notch. “I bet you were one of those jocks who barely passed their classes and cheated off of girls like me.”

He spreads his arms, wingspan wide. Grins wickedly, his entire face lighting up. “Yet here I am with a full ride to college. Do the math on those odds.”

Resigned, my body sags against the side of the house, the fabric of my jacket snagging on the wooden siding. “What am I supposed to do until my friends come out?”

I swear he winks at me. “Again, not my problem.”

“Did you just wink at me?”

He rubs his face with the knuckle of his left hand. “No. I obviously have dust in my eye.”

My head hits the house when I tip it to laugh. “Liar.”

“Pollen?”

We regard each other from our spots across the porch until he quietly asks, “Want me to walk you home?”

He is so transparent. “So you can get me out of here quicker?”

He laughs to himself, chest constricting. “Pretty much.”

“You’re twice as big as I am—no way am I letting you walk me home in the dark.” I wasn’t born yesterday, and my mother didn’t raise a fool.

No matter how cute this guy is.

“Can I point out a fun fact?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Very cute, but no.” He takes a drag from his beer. “Your friends had no problem ignoring the fact that you disappeared when I hauled you off.”

“Do you honestly think those jockholes inside told them I was being kicked out? No. They’re blissfully unaware.”

Another pull from his beer. “They probably think I’m fucking you.”

Jesus. Blunt much?

My cheeks flush. “Don’t flatter yourself. They know me better than that.”

“So you’re a prude?”

I squint, ignoring him. “Remind me again why I followed you out here?”

Answer: Because curiosity killed the cat, Scarlett. You followed a good-looking stranger out into the dark and look where it got you—on the front porch, in the bitter cold.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it—any one of those girls would have followed me out here, too.”

Oh brother, he’s modest too? “And why do you suppose that is?”

His broad shoulders shrug and damn, he must be freezing his ass off. “Captain of the baseball team. Handsome as fuck. Funny as hell.”

“I don’t…wow. I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

Cannot argue with that. “It sure is,” I agree with a laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” He eyes me up and down from his spot on the ground. “Why are you dressed like you’re taking a trip to Antarctica?”

I press my lips together. Part them. “For your information, smartass, I’ve been sick. I had a cold, so what was I supposed to do, wear a bandage dress to a house party? No thanks, I’m trying to get better before the break.”