The Game Plan (Game On, #3)(44)
“So, Dex?” Anna grins before taking a sip of her latte.
I don’t know if she found out from Ivy, or if Gray blabbed to Drew—though my money is on Gray. Regardless, I can’t help but grin back. “Yeah. Dex.”
I hold in a dreamy sigh, because that would be overkill. But Anna’s too quick. My satisfaction doesn’t escape her notice.
“That good, eh?” Her cheeks plump, and the breeze sends her red curls spiraling around her head.
“Let’s just say fauxgasms are unnecessary.”
“Fauxgasms?” Anna asks with a laugh.
“Fake orgasms.” I give her a look. “God, please don’t tell me you’ve never had to fake it. I think I’ll die of envy.”
My sex life hasn’t been horrible or anything, but college boys, by and large, are pretty much pump and dump, lather, rinse, repeat.
Dex had been a virgin, and yet he’d put his entire body and soul into the act. I’d felt cherished and my body worshiped. Never mind that Dex is so freaking sexy, all he has to do is look at me and I’m a hot mess.
Anna swallows a bite before shaking her head. “Of course I’ve faked it. Never with Drew, though.”
I roll my eyes at that but laugh. “I hope not since you’re marrying the guy.”
“Oh, he leaves me quite satisfied. Quite.”
We give each other an immature fist bump and dissolve into laughter.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” Anna says.
“Why? Because of the athlete thing?”
“Well, partially that. I mean you’ve shrugged off every friend of Drew’s who’s hit on you.”
More than a few guys on Drew’s team have made passes whenever I hang out with him and Anna. And, yes, my refusals were mainly because they were football players. But some were also total meatheads.
“But really,” Anna continues, “it’s more that Dex is so quiet. I mean, I love the guy, but you’re not exactly shy.”
I have to laugh. “He’s not quiet when we’re together. Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’d kill someone who was exactly like me. Imagine all the noise, noise, noise!” I fake a shudder.
Anna gives me an obligatory smile, but then it fades. “So why do you look so sad, Fi?”
Like that I wilt. I could tell her about my job. But that’s not what’s hurting my heart at the moment. “Because I don’t think I’m cut out for a long-distance relationship. I miss him already.” I don’t just miss him. I need him. Here. Now. “I’ve got all this fluttery anticipation and nowhere for it to go until we see each other again. Won’t it get worse the more attached I get?”
Reaching out, she takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Shit, I wish I was better at this. I don’t know. I f*cking hate it when Drew is gone. But what can you do? We love who we love.”
“I thought falling for someone was supposed to be awesome.”
“Ha.” Anna leans back, her eyes bright. “Best and worst time of your life, kid.”
* * *
Dex
The photographer’s studio is in New Orleans’ Warehouse District. We’ve been scheduled in small groups. I’m here with Rolondo, Finn, and Jake Ryder, our other wide out.
Aside from Ryder, none of us are particularly comfortable with the idea of modeling for the next few hours, but it’s for charity, so we’ll make due.
No one is here to greet us, which is odd. When ringing the bell fails to get a reply, Finn pounds on the metal door with the side of his fist.
“We get the time wrong?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Nope. In fact, we’re a few minutes late.”
“The photographer had better not be having some sort of artistic huff.”
Finn is the one who appears to be five seconds away from a huff, but I shrug. “Maybe he’s on the can or something.”
“Great,” drawls Ryder. “We’ve gotta wait for a shit? That could be half an hour at least.”
Rolondo bends his head back and looks at the ceiling. “Lord, these boys keep leaving themselves wide open for a smack down. It’s almost too easy.”
Ryder smirks, then reaches past me and slams on the door as well. “Dude! Nip it off and open up!”
“Jesus,” I say, my ears ringing. “Have some class.”
He just grins.
The door whips open, ending the conversation. A tall young woman with long, straight hair a saturated shade of magenta gives us a dark scowl that takes our measure. I’m guessing we’re found lacking.
“Nip what off, do tell?” she asks, her voice so husky I wonder if she’s a smoker.
We all kind of shuffle, then Finn steps forward. “Er…we’re here for the calendar shoot.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t think you were here for the little league group shot I have scheduled later.”
“You’re the photographer?” Finn’s eyes widen in obvious shock.
“Let’s not be a cliché, eh, pretty boy?”
Ryder snickers. “She’s got your number, sweet cheeks.”
Finn is a pretty boy. We all love to tease him about it. But he doesn’t seem to like it now. “Hey now, we were told our photographer’s name was Chester Copper. Excuse me if I assumed it was a man.”