The Game (That Girl, #2)(16)

Well, almost everything. I mean, really, what kind of hoe shares details about doing her friend’s brother-in–law? Same code goes for doing brothers or cousins. Some things are just made not to share with certain relations. Lynlee can’t bitch too much, because from the looks of it, Levi and I will be getting along fine from now on. And I thought I needed a pill to make me happy. Hell, I just needed a little of Levi Wilks inside of me.

I try to get my head on straight and get dressed for fishing. Can’t say I’m your everyday fisherman. My dad used to take me when I was little, but that didn’t last long. I’d become bored and start jabbering away, then I’d start throwing rocks in the water. Dad could handle about twenty minutes of me before he’d pack us up and leave. Surely, I’ll have a little more patience, considering I now have something very worthy to daydream about.

“What are you going to wear?” I yell to Levi.

“Clothes,” he replies.

“Asshole.”

Guess I’ll just throw on some old blue jeans with holes at the knees and a bit higher up toward my thigh, an oversized hoodie over my tank, and slip on some Cons. When I peek in the mirror to tame down my mane, I smile at reddened cheeks and wild-ass hair. In one swoop, I pull all my hair up into a messy bun and slap on an Aztec headband to keep some of my shorter layers held back.

I make my way back out to the kitchen and find Levi sitting on the counter once again, with two travel mugs sitting on the counter next to him. In some strange way, he’s even more handsome than before, and I’m not sure if it’s because of our intimate interaction. Typically, I’d think he was a pompous ass sitting on the counter with his Dallas ball cap on backward, brown hair peeking out all around it, his tight Under Armour shirt, and designer Nikes. Right now he only mirrors an extremely hot man with incredibly sexy hands.

His voice distracts my attention from examining and reexamining every single part of him. “Coffee?”

“Thanks.”

I twist off the lid and am surprised to see the creamy tan color. It’s the way I like my coffee, with lots of creamer and very little coffee taste.

Before I take a sip, I have to ask him, “How did you know?”

“I’m not that big of an ass. I’ve watched and listened to you and Lynlee the past couple days. I can’t move very fast, clearly, and have been forced to listen to more than I’d like.”

“Just when I think you may be a swoony hunk, you pull your dick card right out of your ass.” I laugh at my own analogy.

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow. Let’s get going. Morning times are the best for fishing.”

I grab for his mug and take a quick swig, mentally noting how he likes his coffee.

“Holy shit, you must have a hairy chest. That’s straight black coffee, right?”

“The only way to drink it.”

“That’ll be easy to remember. That’s how my dad liked to drink it.”

“Yeah,” Levi replies, as we walk out the door, “Where is your dad?”

“He died about a year or so ago…” I trail off.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t do that, please. Just be an *, the one who doesn’t do love.”

Levi strolls alongside of me step for step. “Will do.”

We walk to the front of the garage, and I spot an old white Chevy truck. I swear this family has more vehicles than most people have underwear. I’ll admit this is an older body style, like eighties or early nineties, but in mint condition. No dents, scrapes, or scratches, only shining chrome and license plates that read “Wilks 11.”

“What’s this?” I ask.

“A truck.”

“Ahh, there’s the dick, back in the flesh.”

“Get your ass in. I’ve got everything packed up.”

Hopping up into the truck, I immediately notice the interior is just as well taken care of as the outside. It’s like I’m back in my high school days with the popular jock. Only I wouldn’t be with the popular jock or in a fancy truck. I watch as Levi tries to open his door and winces in pain.

I fly out of the truck and to his side. “This is too much. We can go another day.”

“Just shut up and open the door.”

“Levi, I’m serious. What if you over-do it before your physical therapist even gets here?”

“Open the f*cking door, Jazzy. I want to go fishing.”

“I’m going to call Lynlee.”

Levi’s left fist flies back and then forward into the side of his door, leaving behind a visible dent and little smears of blood.

“I just want to go f*cking fishing. I want to do something with my hands. My right side is basically f*cking paralyzed by pain with every movement. I just f*cking want to do something.”

“Levi, I’ve never watched you play or even throw a ball, but I do know you’re very passionate about the game, and you have the sexiest set of hands I’ve ever seen.” I pause a moment, grabbing both of his hands and bringing them to my lips. “Let me drive, and we’ll go fishing.”

Levi takes off for the passenger seat, mumbling the whole way. Each of his mumbles is clear as day to me. “I f*cking hate this. I don’t want to be here. Fuck this shit.”

I half expect him to storm straight into the house. This must be the touchy side of not playing that Lynlee keeps warning me about. I have no idea how to relate to him, because quite frankly I’ve never been passionate about any career in my life. Nasty headlines of a wasted champion keep filling my brain.