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Chapter Eight
Knox
An hour later, I’m no closer to getting her to go out with me than I was when she handed Isabella the bag of baguettes, and it’s messing with my head. Not that all I need to do is look at a girl and her panties disappear, but I don’t generally need to work this hard. She’s like sneaking up on a wild horse and hoping I don’t get my teeth knocked in.
We’ve continued to chat throughout the meal, but anytime I get the nerve to ask her out or touch her, she stares like I have a prodding iron in my hand.
“Saylor, who did you get for the secret Santa gift exchange?” Isabella grabs the dish of lasagna off the table.
“I can’t tell you that. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
“Right.” Isabella stares at the ceiling with a broad smile across her face and breezes past me. “Forget I asked.”
“Secret Santa?”
“We drew names out of a hat and have to get a gift for the person’s name we picked. It’s for the coaches, their clerical, and the rest of the office staff on our floor.” She grabs the glass of wine in a death grip and leans toward me. “I got your dad.”
“I won’t breathe a word.”
She laughs. “Great.”
After she takes a sip of her drink, she sets it down and turns toward me. “Tell me about your family.”
My heart races in my chest. Is she finally getting the hint I like her? It’s about time. I’ve done about everything I can think of besides pin her to the wall and kiss her breathless.
If nothing else works, I’m about to throw that into the mix–even if we’re surrounded by my friends. Of course, they’re oblivious to us as they’ve slipped into their own little worlds.
“My dad played pro football throughout my early years. After he retired, he took a job in Minnesota. My mom held us together while dad worked. His hours were long and crazy, so she was the mom and dad in most instances. Don’t get me wrong. He was there when he could be. I have a younger sister and twin younger brothers.”
“How fun.” Her eyes light up, and she rests her hand on my forearm. “I always wanted brothers and sisters. Do you get along well?”
Don’t screw this up. I’ve never felt more like I was at a job interview in my life. My nerves have my stomach-churning. “We do. My sister is a former college athlete. She was headed to the pros in women’s basketball when she blew out her knee. She ended up returning to dance and is getting her Master’s in Sport’s Psychology.”
“That’s fascinating.”
I lace my fingers through hers and rest our joined hands on my thigh. I ache to pull her into my arms and kiss her, but I don’t want to embarrass her. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t reject my advances.
“She worked with Devin a few months ago.”
Her gaze darts to Devin, who’s across the room with his arm around Veronica’s waist. “Devin?”
“Yeah, he wanted to improve his balance and core strength.”
“What type of dance?”
“Ballet.”
She returns her attention to me. “He took ballet?” Her pink lips are parted, making me want to drop to my knees and beg her to give me a chance.
“Yes.” It’s the only word I can choke out.
“Wow. That’s a surprise.” Her eyes drop to my mouth as if she’s struggling to fight the same pull I am.
“My younger brothers are in college. They both play football.”
“It sounds like football is in your blood.”
“You could say that.” I lean forward until there’re only a few inches between us. The centers of her eyes darken with desire, and she blinks.
