Jock Rule (Jock Hard #2)(69)

“Where?” I’ll admit to being a teensy weensy bit curious about where this date she doesn’t want to go on is happening.

“The bar district, to listen to some local band.”

“What kind of band?”

“I don’t know Amelia! Some garage band or whatever. I was only half listening.”

“Hmm.” That sounds kind of fun. “What time?”

“Eight on Friday.”

“And you don’t think he’d notice that I’m not you?”

“No way, not a chance. He’s a guy.” Lucy leans in again. “Does this mean you’ll do it?”

“I don’t want to, but…”

She gets up from the table, comes around to my side, and puts me in a struggle cuddle from behind. “Yes! You are the best! I owe you big time.”“I know you do.”

She pokes a finger in my direction. “You can’t tell Mom or Dad.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pause. “I guess…have Dash pick me up on campus?”

“Can’t you come to my house and have him pick you up there?”

“You’re seriously going to push your luck? Have him pick me up on campus. I’ll be in front of the field house.”

“Amelia, he’s going to think that’s so weird.”

“Ugh! Fine, fine. I’ll be at your house at quarter to eight.” I poke a finger back at her. “You better hope he’s not early.”





Chapter Two


Amelia


He’s early.

Fifteen minutes early, to be exact, strolling up the sidewalk to my sister’s house at the same exact time I am. My house is only a few short blocks away, so I hoofed it over, heels clicking on the cement below my feet.

As if this evening wasn’t already extremely awkward for me, I’m approaching Lucy’s at a snail’s pace when I see a guy I assume is Dash already on her doorstep, poised to knock.

I stop short, halting on the pavement to watch him, the dark shrouding me as I hover under a tall maple tree like a total creep, considering my options while teetering on these heels Lucy brought over.

Stealing a few moments to observe, I have a mere second or two before he rings the doorbell or pounds on the door.

He’s tall, with wide-set athlete’s shoulders. I can see the planes of his muscles flexing beneath his t-shirt, highlighted by the dim porch lights on either side of Lucy’s front door. Jet-black hair gleams when he shifts on his heels, raising his fist, knuckles ready to rap against the storm door.

“Dash?” I softly call out, testing the nickname on my lips, not wanting him to knock but not quite sure if this is Dash, or Hudson, or whoever my sister’s date is for tonight.

I walk closer, clutching my purse, moving forward into the light.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m over here.” I walk closer still, pasting on a smile, a knot forming in my stomach.

“Hey.” He backtracks down the steps of the porch, jogging toward me. “What are you doing out here?”

He’s close enough that I can see him better, nothing but strength and swagger. One look at his face and I begin stumbling over my words.

“Um, I was, uh…I had to…oh! I know!” Jesus, Amelia, you’ve seen a cute guy before. “I forgot I’d left my wallet at a friend’s house? And I ran to get it. Didn’t want to forget my ID, nope I did not!” I push out a laugh so fake I want to gag.

He cocks his head to the side, studying me, all high cheekbones and thick slashes of eyebrows. Beautiful dark skin, brawny…God he’s cute. My sister wasn’t kidding when she said he was good-looking.

What she didn’t mention was that Dash Amado is Latino.

Muy caliente—very freaking hot.

“You need to run inside or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. We can get going.” So I can get this night over with, come home, get into my pajamas—preferably by ten o’clock at the latest—and forget this whole evening took place.

He clicks a remote hidden in his back pocket, unlocking the doors of his black car. Pulls the passenger side open, waits until I’m buckled in before closing the door with a dull thud. Jogs around the front to the driver’s side.

I do a quick visual scan of the car’s interior. It’s clean, no garbage in the back seat, and smells like masculine aftershave and gym equipment. I peel my eyes off the bat bag in the back seat as Dash folds his big body inside.

“Sorry I’m a little early, but the band starts at eight fifteen and I wanted to get a spot in the front. Ready?”

Ready as I’ll ever be, considering I haven’t done the old switcheroo since I was a teenager.

“Yay! So ready,” I reply in my best impression of Lucy.

He starts the engine, throwing on his blinker to enter traffic, overly cautious given there’s virtually no traffic on this street. It is completely deserted.

“Thanks for going along with this.” He glances over, large hands gripping the wheel. “When you asked me out, this was the best I could do on such short notice.”

“Excuse me?”

Wait, did he just say ‘when you asked me out’?

I clear my throat and, as casually as I can, ask, “I asked you out?”