My arms drop. Nerves flutter in my belly. Yeah, I’ve been with guys. And I like sex. Love good sex, elusive as it is. But flirting with Baylor? I can’t handle it. He’s too much. He makes my mouth dry and my hands twitch with wanting to run them over his taut chest.
The truth is I don’t understand why he persists in talking to me. I’m nothing like his usual women. I’m not even nice to him. Something I refuse to feel guilty about.
“I wasn’t offering,” I say. Not precisely true. Which is why I need to leave. I turn, ready to hunt down Iris, when he moves to touch my elbow with the tips of his fingers. Pure instinct has me evading his reach. I know without doubt that if he touches me, I’m done for.
He frowns at the action, his hand dropping. But it doesn’t stop him from speaking. “Stay.” His voice is a soft caress that rubs over me.
“I’d rather go.” It’s both a lie and the truth. I can’t think straight when he’s near.
“I can’t believe that.” He dimples. “I mean, we get along so well.”
He says it with just enough dry humor that I fight a smile and shake my head. “Let me guess, you’ve never approached a girl who turns out to be not interested in you.”
Baylor cocks his head as though taken aback and then gives his neck a scratch. “Well,” he says slowly, “no, I haven’t.” A wide grin breaks over his face, all charm and dimpled hotness. “I can see that bothers you.”
“Wrong. It simply reinforces my original impression of you.”
“As what? Honest?” He leans in close. Close enough to notice that his breath doesn’t smell like beer, and that his eyes have a ring of deep brown around the gold irises. “Here’s the thing, Jones, I don’t understand how you can find that a problem.”
I blink and force myself to focus on something other than his eyes. “You don’t see how never being told ‘no’ isn’t a problem?”
His smile deepens. “Stop being obtuse. You’re talking about my irresistibility. I’m talking about my honesty. Two vastly different topics.”
My lips twitch. Damn it. “I don’t recall saying you were irresistible.”
“Besides,” he goes on as if I haven’t spoken, “I can’t see what sort of culpability I have in girls wanting to get to know me. It’s not like I’m bribing them or lying to have my ‘wicked way’ with them. It is what it is.”
I stare at him a long moment, one in which he grins his stupid grin and I fight the stupid urge to return it.
“You know what? You’re right.”
“Finally!” he says to no one in particular before smiling down at me.
I give him a bland look. “So let’s put it this way.” I step into his space, glaring up at him. “I could not care less about football. I don’t give a shit who you are or what you do or—”
My tirade dies when he leans so close that our noses practically touch. The look in his eyes isn’t angry. It’s triumphant. “Exactly, Jones.”
Two words and he’s knocked the wind out of my sails. His not wanting me to fawn all over him is the last thing I expect. I start to frown. Maybe I even do. I can’t stop myself from saying, “Well, hell.”
And he bursts out laughing. A rich, full laugh that’s so infectious, I respond to it, snorting a little as I try to keep from laughing too. Our eyes meet, and the air between us abruptly shifts. Base heat swamps me so fast that I lose my next breath. Maybe he does too because he goes absolutely still. A lion about to pounce. I blink back, the gazelle caught out in full sunlight.
But then a lumbering form comes up to us, and a big hand slaps down on Baylor’s shoulder. “Battle, my man,” says the hulking guy who has to be one of Baylor’s linemen. “Sandra here wants to say hello.”