Enemy Down - Cathryn Fox Page 0,19
air, and lets it out quickly, like my closeness somehow affects her. “How would you know that when we know nothing about each other.”
“I just do, and for the record, I hate football.”
Tension arcs between us, and rattles my dick. I lean back, putting a measure of distance between us. “That’s a surprise, considering how much you watch the practices when you run.”
“I do not,” she shoots back. “Wait, if you know that, then it would imply that you watch me.” She puckers her lips and does a little bobblehead thing, looking at me like I’m a rat backed into a corner.
I simply answer with, “Maybe I do,” which totally makes her jaw drop open.
I grin at her and she quickly pulls herself together and gives an unladylike snort. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m not watching any practices.”
“Because you don’t like football, or because you don’t like me.”
She folds her arms. “Exactly.”
I can’t help but laugh out loud, and I swear to God, everything in me wants to change her mind. But to what end? She’s a good girl who wants to go on to law school, and we live very different lives. I’m not about to pull out all the stops to get her to like me, only to fuck off once college is over, because I’m not a guy who could give her more. Not that she’s looking for more. No, Maize Malone is a girl on a mission, and I don’t think a man, children, or any picket fence play into her future plans, so best I keep things the way they are and let her hate me. I can’t help but wonder what made her all work and no play, though.
We fall quiet, and I tap my thumb on the steering wheel as I listen to the music. Forty-five minutes later, my stomach is grumbling loudly as I pull into the parking lot of Julep Café. I can almost taste the eggs benny now. I unbuckle and she seems a bit hesitant.
“Everything okay?”
“Christian…” she begins and nervously wraps her purse strap around her fingers, and that’s when it hits me.
Shit, making her feel poor, like she’s in a place where she doesn’t belong is the last thing I meant to do. Christ, sometimes I can be a real dick. “This one is on me. I want you to taste the best eggs benny in the world so you’ll be able to replicate them.” She eyes me like she doesn’t believe that for a minute. “This really is about me, and not you. I’m kind of self-centered sometimes.”
That brings a smile to her face. “As long as you know it.”
I laugh and it lightens the tension between us. The rain has let up a bit by the time we step out of the vehicle, so I leave the umbrella and circle the Jeep to meet Maize. I put my hand on the small of her back to lead her to the café, and don’t miss the way my body reacts, or the way hers quivers beneath my touch. Is that repulsion, or something else entirely?
Doesn’t matter, dude, you’re keeping your hands to yourself with this one.
“I know you can walk by yourself, but believe it or not my mother raised a gentleman.” More like my grandmother. My mother didn’t spend a whole lot of time with me.
She lets out a loud ‘hmph’ sound and casts me a disbelieving stare. Right, she thinks I pulled my pants down in the closet to get with her, and made her the laughing stock of Sweetwater High.
I open the door to the café and lead her in. A few minutes later, we’re seated by the window, with a nice view of the back garden where they grow their fresh herbs. She glances around, a small smile on her face, and for some weird reason, I’m glad I was able to put it there. I don’t think this girl has had an easy go at life, and I made things worse for her.
“This place is really nice. How did you discover it again?”
“I needed a break from the frat house.” I stretch out, and my leg touches hers. She sits up a bit straighter, a look on her face that speaks of agony. “Shoot, sorry, did I hurt your foot.”
She takes a fast sip on her water. “No, it was my other one. So, you were saying…”
“The house has fifteen guys, and it’s always noisy and there are parties going on.”