Have I mentioned how much I enjoy it when she busts my chops? Because I do. I grin unrepentantly. “I’m sorry you got hurt, but not sorry you’re single.”
“That’s honest, at least.” She tugs her fingers, and I reluctantly release her. The plate is empty, and it’s obvious she’s getting fidgety. I guess I can’t keep Goldie here if she wants to leave, no matter how much I’d like to. “It doesn’t really matter whether you’re a player or a monk,” she says.
“Are we back to the risk assessment?”
“Partly. Tell me what else you’re interested in other than football. Because Ace? Ahmed? Jack? The only thing they ever talk about is football.”
“Hey, it’s not my problem the offense is full of guys who are one dimensional. I’ve got other interests,” I protest and get to my feet.
“Like what?”
She doesn’t even look at me. Under her disinterest, my near nudity feels awkward and embarrassing. I swipe the flannel sleep pants off the floor and shove my legs into them.
“Like…” Fuck, what is the last non-football thing I’ve done besides drinking and screwing? “I like movies.”
“As in you review them? Study them? Write papers on them?”
“I think that shit moves movies from the fun column to the work column.” I do a mental inventory of the bathroom. No towels on the floor. No condoms. No random bits of underwear. Deciding it’s safe, I offer it to Luce. “You need the bathroom?”
“That’d be great.” She pops in and closes the door.
I know she’ll hear me talking because the door is as thin as two notebooks pressed together. “I like basketball.”
“That’s a sport. Falls under the same rubric as football.”
Shit. It sort of does. My eyes fall to the chair by the window. “Reading. I like to read.”
The rustling inside the bathroom stops. Aha. She likes that. I should have gone there first. Of course she thinks reading is an important skill. Girls like guys who read. There’s a whole Instagram feed for that, which I know because Hammer and I were on it and have scored more than one out-of-town lay because of it. Last year, during our championship run, a newspaper did a piece on the secret lives of the Warriors football team.
Hammer and I were in the same Lit class, and we happened to be reading Moby Dick. We took that book with us everywhere, not because it was a great read, but because it was so frickin’ boring. We had to force ourselves to finish it. Coach caught us one day and dragged the public relations person in.
We were told to wear our football pants and team workout T-shirts for the article so the outside world would believe we were something more than dumb jocks. As if we sit around the locker room with pants on. What a crock!
“What’s your favorite book?” she asks.
“I don’t have one favorite book.” I try to keep the triumph out of my tone. Don’t know how successful I am.
“Name one and don’t be so smug.”
Not very successful.
“It’s a series. Harry Potter. I grew up reading that series.”
“What’s your Patronus?”
“Ah ah ah,” I say. “You’re not getting that out of me. I’m not near drunk enough.” Tell her the spirit animal I picked out at the age of eight? No.
“I work at the Brew House. If you tell me what it is, I’ll make your Patronus out of foam.”
“That’s tempting, but still no.” I lean against the door, thinking this is probably the least sexual but most interesting conversation I’ve ever had in my bedroom before. “Can you really do that? Make pictures out of milk.”
The door opens and Lucy appears in skinny jeans and an oversized off-white sweater that hides all the good parts, including her ass. But she still looks sexy as hell. It’s like the wrapping on a present. I can’t wait to peel it off her.
“Actually, no. The most I can do is a leaf and a heart.” She drops her folded pajamas into her bag and picks up her insulin case. “I’m not quizzing you anymore, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but favorite character of the series?”
“Snape,” I answer immediately.
“Really?”
“You think I was going to say Ron?” I’m slightly offended.
She laughs. “No. I don’t think Ron is anyone’s favorite character. But don’t most guys like Harry or, I guess, Draco?”
“Nah, Snape was the best. He had a big heart and was courageous.”
She chews the corner of her lip. “Also a bully, but I can see where you get the other characteristics.” Lightly, she tosses her case from one hand to the other. “So no class for you today?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I attended last week. I don’t want my professors to keel over in shock by going too often. Besides, this is my break. I don’t get a fall break, Thanksgiving break, and only about three days off at Christmas. Even Spring Break is out because we’re in the middle of spring ball, so I don’t go to class full-time until after Signing Day. All the professors know this and deal with it.” It’s a perk of being on the championship winning team, and I take full advantage of it. “What do you have?”