football schedule, we’ve barely seen each other. I miss him.”
I look up just in time to see Zach walking through the door to Shooters. I lift up my hand in a wave. “Here’s your hottie now.”
Everything about my sister lights up when she sees him. She’s off her chair and jumping into his giant arms before I can take my next breath. I have to turn away from their makeout session while I wallow in my loneliness and suck down more of my drink.
“Hey, Maggie,” Zach says with a squeeze of my shoulder.
I swivel in my stool and flash him a smile. “Hey, Zach. Ready for your game tomorrow?”
He claps and rubs his hands together, emitting an energy that’s impossible to ignore. “You know it. How was class today? Desmond still being a pain?”
I lift my eyes and nod. “Did you ever doubt him?”
Zach chuckles. “Not for a second. Want me to talk to him? Straighten him out a bit? You know I’d be happy to.”
No matter the relationship Zach has with our father, he is impossible to hate. I find myself smiling my first genuine smile of the day. “Only if I can watch.” Then I eye the certificate in front of me again and swipe it from the table, a burst of adrenaline leading me. “On second thought, I think I’ll handle the straightening out myself.” I stand from the bar. “Keep my spot warm. This should only take a minute.”
Monica and Zach’s laughter fade as I exit the bar and take the stairs two at a time to the kitchen entrance. I try the door first, but it’s locked, so I knock hard on the glass instead.
A few moments later, the door flings open, and I’m ready to give Desmond the tongue lashing I’ve quickly prepared. My mouth is already opening, my hands are clenched by my sides, and the first syllable leaves my throat when it catches at the sight before me.
It takes me a moment to realize that the man who opens the door is the same one I just saw in class. But this time he’s shirtless, sweaty, and breathing as hard as someone who just ran a record-breaking 5K. He lifts an arm above his head and rests it on the top of the door frame, leveling me with his gaze. But my eyes don’t stay on his. Instead, I follow a drip of sweat that’s running between his pecs then down the center line of his abs until it reaches his navel. He’s wearing pants, thank God. But they’re hanging low, and now I’m imagining too much.
Damn. If I didn’t hate Desmond Blake, I think I might just love him.
“Back so soon?”
My gaze snaps up to find his eyes twinkling with a devilish gleam. His voice is deep, thick, filled with sex, and masked with humor. For a second, a pang of jealousy hits me over whoever has the ability to evoke more from Desmond than sarcastic quips and cruel indifference.
My skin starts to prickle as warmth washes over me. I can feel the flush in my cheeks as my eyes meet his. And just like the moment we met, I feel like he sees far too much. I swallow, attempting to regain control, but it’s nearly impossible when he’s dressed like that.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your activities, but”—I clear my throat then smash the paper to his chest before peeling my eyes away from his hard body again—“despite whatever my sister said to you, I don’t want a pity certificate. I want to know I earned it.”
He cocks a brow. “You don’t believe you earned it?”
“I do.” I stumble a little before righting my shoulders. “But I need to hear it from you.”
“Are you saying you need my validation?”
My jaw drops while his words tumble around in my mind. Is that what I came here for? If so, I’m giving Desmond far too much credit. Time to backpedal.
“I did earn it, but I’m not going to hang something on my wall that someone had to beg you to give me. I want you to hand it to me and tell me I earned it, or I don’t want it at all.”
He shakes his head, never losing the twinkle. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Maggie, but I can’t do that. You’ll have to come back to class and take it seriously if you want me to reciprocate.”
My mood instantly falls, and the attraction toward the nearly naked man in front of