the dress.
Steven clears his throat, lowers himself back on my bed, and starts tossing the ball up toward the canopy, his laser focus now on the brown pigskin and not me. He’s distracting himself and I love it. It means I’m finally gaining my womanly wiles. I affect him. I snatch his ball on the way down, before he can catch it, pulling it against my chest. He remains lying, with his gaze pointed at the ceiling. He’s calculating his words.
Clearing his throat, he looks at me from the side, warily. “Noah Crosby is a pansy, sissy boy. I don’t know why you said yes to him anyways.” He makes a grab for the ball, but I hug it tighter against my breasts, intentionally using the ball to push them up. Steven’s gaze darts down right where I want it.
“Noah Crosby asked me,” I counter.
Steven sits up, eyes still glued to my chest. “You would have said yes to anyone who asked you first, then?” I toss the ball at his face and he barely catches it in time.
He had a million girls ask him. Not that I would have asked, but it would have been nice to hear those words come from his mouth; some small recognition that maybe I could be more than just a friend in his world… at least for one night. The boundaries in our friendship are solid. It’s one thing that I can count on, even if I wish we were more—especially now that we’re older and his charm and looks are becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Biting his bottom lip, his brown eyes flick up to meet mine. “I don’t believe it. Not for one second.” His voice is deep and commanding. I shiver. The fire in my belly starts. Dropping his beloved football, he folds his arms behind his head as he waits for me to respond.
I shrug. “I think it’s a perfectly beautiful gown that Noah will love.” I look down at myself and then back to Steven.
“Oh, I’m sure Noah will love that dress.” He reaches a big hand out and wraps it around my waist, where the red fabric turns sheer. The heat radiating from his hand turns my shivers into something else entirely. His hand encapsulates my entire waist, spanning from my belly button to my back. It’s obvious why he’s the best quarterback in our district. “I’ll end up pummeling his face if he does anything improper or forward. You know that, right?” He’s speaking, but his gaze is focused on the hand that grasps me. I wrap my hand around his, to keep it there.
“What if I want him to be improper and forward?” I ask with a smile on my face. It’s a joke.
Steven takes it as anything but, one eyebrow rising with anger. “Why would you say that to me?” He drops his hand and he pulls a corner of his bottom lip into his mouth.
Womanly wiles: zero. So much for my new captivating game. “I’m sorry,” I admit, putting both hands on either side of his rosy cheeks. “I was joking.”
Keeping his hands on his knees, he says, “You could have fooled me. Since when do you joke anyways?”
I drop to my knees in front of him—a feat in this snug dress. Steven’s eyes widen. “Please forgive me, sweet Steven Warner. I do not want Noah’s flute skilled fingers anywhere around or inside my body. I will never joke about such an atrocity again.” I lay my hands on top of his. He looks down at me, arches a brow, and shakes his head.
“Don’t try out your man eating skills on me either. I know your game. You can’t bait a shark with a guppy, sweetheart.” Now his smile is full blown, his chest shaking with laughter.
I throw my hand on my chest in mock outrage. “How am I supposed to get any practice if my best guy friend won’t at least play along?” I tilt my head in question, but I can’t stifle the laughter bubbling up. We’re both out of breath and I have tears streaming down my face when my daddy comes in to tell us dinner will be in ten minutes.
“For the record, I’ll never say no if you do the knee groveling thing, Morgaliscious. Something about you on your knees and your lips spitting out such foreign words like forgive me and inside my body.”
“I don’t believe it. Not for one second,” I toss over my shoulder on