Page 49 of The Casanova Complex

Is she going to kick me out now or consider what I’m asking?

Fuck, she’s got a great poker face.

After the most tense seconds of my life, she rolls her lips together and finally says, “I don’t give a shit about Blake. He’s an asshole.”

“The biggest. Which is why being my fake girlfriend is a win-win situation. He’s the only one who loses here. And what is he gonna think if we were dating at the bakery, and now suddenly we’re not?” Fuck, my palms are actually sweating right now, that’s how nervous I am.

I don’t get nervous.

I’ve never walked into a room and thought, oh shit, this might not go how I planned, and I realize that’s the delusional part of my brain, but hell. This girl has done literally nothing but bust my balls and humble me since I met her.

It absolutely turns me on, in a fucked-up kind of way, but right now…

I need her to take me seriously.

“Gauthreaux is in a tandem with me this year. Which… TLDR means that we’re both fighting for the net, and truly nothing would make me happier than that asshole losing. It’s not just about competing for number one goalie; it’s that he’s an actual fuckwad who’s never going to be a team player. He can fuck with me all he wants, but he’s disrupting the team dynamic too.”

I just need Coach to see that, to see what I’m seeing and stick Gauthreaux’s ass on the bench for the rest of the season. And pissing him off and riling him up might be just what I need to make his true colors show for everyone.

I clench my teeth, my jaw working, “Only an asshole would treat you the way that he did, Merritt. He deserves far more.”

She’s quiet for a beat, but then she sighs, breath tumbling out unevenly. “This feels… complicated.”

“Not if we don’t make it complicated.”

Holy shit, is she actually… considering it?

I probably shouldn’t be hopeful, but fuck, Mawmaw Judy was right about her superstitions, and I’m convinced Merritt St. Pierre is the only good luck charm I need.

Without a fucking doubt.

I just need her to say yes.

“We kissed once. Why are you so sure that it’s the reason that you’re suddenly playing well and winning games?”

How do I explain that it’s a gut feeling, intuition, without sounding like a total crazy person?

“Dunno, I just do. Call it intuition.” Tossing her a smirk, lifting my shoulder in a shrug, I add, “If you don’t believe me… then let me prove it to you.”

Merritt arches her brow. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Like this.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MERRITT

For the second time in a single week, I kissed Bennett Legros.

Only this time, it was him who kissed me.

How does this keep happening? And twice in two freaking days?

Better yet, why were his lips so soft but still felt firm and commanding as he moved them against mine? And why did it make every single muscle in my body go lax and soften like I was melting when he curved his big, rough palm at the edge of my jaw? And why did the fingers that tangled into the hair at my nape make me feel like I was actually levitating off the bed?

It shouldn’t have felt the way that it did. It shouldn’t have felt so… good.

Better than it’s ever felt to kiss anyone.