Chapter 7 #3
“I was trying to be fancy, so I decided to go down backward. In my head, it was a good idea, but I was on one of those inner tube thingies, and I must have pushed off at an angle because the stupid thing started spinning like crazy while I was zooming down the hill. So there’s me, holding on for dear life and trying not to scream like a little girl while the kids were cheering from the top of the hill, thinking I did all that on purpose.
And because toboggans don’t have brakes, either, I couldn’t slow down, and I hit the chain-link fence at the bottom of the hill so hard I went under it and slid right into a ravine.
My oldest nephew told me it looked like I glitched right through the fence and disappeared into the backrooms.”
“You don’t have good luck with things that don’t have brakes, do you?”
I shake my head. “There’s a reason I refuse to even try roller-skating or rollerblading. I nearly met my maker on knife shoes, I’m not about to tempt fate by putting wheels on my feet.”
“I’m guessing skateboards are out too?” he asks with a grin.
“So out. I don’t even want to think about how epically I could fail on one of those. And surfboards,” I add. “I love swimming and I love the ocean, but I know better than to get on a foam board and play chicken with Mother Nature that way.”
“I can get behind you on the surfing thing,” he says. “But that’s mostly because of the ocean itself and everything that lives in it. The other stuff, you’re on your own for.”
“Why am I not surprised that you like things that don’t have brakes?
” I lean back against the couch as the last of my nerves finally bleed out of me.
“Let me guess, you’re an adrenaline junkie who loves anything that goes fast, and you think that zooming through the air at Mach 2 with no way to stop is fun. ”
“Pretty sure I’ve never hit Mach 2,” he says with a chuckle. “But the rest is accurate.”
“Are you in that video?” I point at his laptop. “Because whoever’s doing those crazy flip jumps definitely hit Mach 2.”
“I took the video,” he says. “The twins are doing the jumps, and Rath is filming them from below.” He tilts his head and studies me for a few beats. “Did you play any sports in school?”
I nod, “Soccer.”
“Really?” He slides his gaze down my body in a way that doesn’t feel platonic or casual. “Yeah, I can see it,” he says, his gaze lingering on my ass. “Soccer guys always have better butts than us hockey players.”
My cheeks go hot. He can’t be flirting with me, right? That was just him making an observation, like when guys compare their forms in the gym. It didn’t mean anything, and I need to stop trying to read into things that aren’t there.
“So,” he says, slowly lifting his gaze back to mine. “The project.”
“Right.” I give myself a mental shake. I’m here so we can work on our group project together.
“Did you look over the interview topics on the syllabus?” he asks. “I figured we could decide which one we want to do and maybe brainstorm some ideas for the actual interview tonight. We can worry about the rest next time we meet up.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Is there one that you want to do?” I ask. “I’m not really partial to any of them, so I’m cool with whatever you pick.”
“How about we go over them and see how much we both know offhand about each topic and if it interests us at all?” he suggests. “Then we won’t have to do as much research for the actual interview.”
“I like the way you think,” I tell him. “Work smart, not hard.”
“Exactly.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks the screen.
It hasn’t escaped me that Ant didn’t put on a shirt, and even though his partial nudity is distracting as hell, I’m definitely enjoying the view.
“Here.” He pats the cushion next to him. “Come check out the first one.”
Slowly, I slide across the couch until I’m sitting beside him, and all of my nerves come back with a vengeance when he leans closer so I can see his phone screen, and his arm brushes against mine.
I do my best to read the first topic, but I really only absorb every other word as the scent of clean soap and something slightly spicy, like cologne, wraps around me like a weighted blanket.
“That’s not really my thing,” Ant says after a few beats, and it takes me way too long to realize he’s talking about the topic.
“Me either,” I say, even though I have no idea if that’s true since I didn’t actually read the whole thing.
“What about the second one?” he asks, leaning even closer so I can better see his phone screen.
We end up going through the entire list of fifteen topics like that, and it takes way more effort than it should for me to pay attention to the conversation and not think about how good Anthony smells or about the little flurries of tingles that detonate on my skin every time our arms brush.
Thankfully I manage to keep my shit together, and after a bit of back and forth, we settle on the topic we want to go with.
“Well, I’d say that was productive,” Ant declares and tucks his phone back in his pocket.
“It was,” I agree.
“Same time and place on Wednesday?”
That’s two days from now, which should give me enough time to get my shit together so I don’t act like a dumbass again.
“Sounds good,” I tell him as we both stand.
His sweats are riding even lower now, and it takes way more effort than it should to not stare at his treasure trail, his ridiculous muscles, or the tiny patch of dark hair peeking out the top of his waistband.
“It’s a date,” he says with another of those teasing grins.
I have no idea what to say to that, so I just nod like a moron and scoop my phone up from the coffee table.
“See ya.” I give him an awkward wave.
“See ya,” he echoes, and the last thing I see as the door is closing behind me is Anthony’s smiling face while his eyes seem locked on my ass.