Page 31 of His Reckless Freshman

“Good to know.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and glance at the fridge. “Just, uh… bottled water will be fine.”

“You sure that’s all you want?”

“Yeah.” I nod, and he brushes past me to walk to the counter.

I step out of the way so we don’t touch and move to the table.

Yeah, he really does smell good. I blink, shaking my head and kind of hating myself for noticing. After what I went through on Friday night, I’m pretty sure I’m off guys for the foreseeable future.

Pulling out my binder, I arrange my notes and try to stay focused on what I’m going to ask. I don’t want things to waffle and sidetrack today. I want to stay on point and then get out of here so I can…

Go where?

Back to your dorm?

What if Nylah’s there?

My shoulders slump and I start tapping my pen on the pad of paper in front of me. The questions I so neatly wrote out in prep for the last interview start to blur, and I actually jump when Ben appears.

“Here you go.”

“Oh!” I clear my throat, giving him a sheepish smile before mumbling, “Thank you.”

I go to open the bottle, grunting when the lid won’t budge. Frowning, I try again with no luck. Stupid cap thingy. Why do they have to make these so impossible to open?

“Mind if I try?” Ben reaches his large hand across the table, and I can’t help noticing the shape of his fingers. They’re so long and masculine and⁠—

Stop noticing everything about him and hand over the bottle!

“Oh, uh… thanks.” I pass it over, and he opens it with zero effort.

“You loosened it for me.” He winks, passing it back and making my lips twitch without my say-so.

“Thank you,” I murmur again before taking a tentative sip, grateful for the cold liquid sliding down my throat.

“You okay?” Ben’s eyebrows dip, his voice soft with concern.

I nod.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem fine. What’s up?”

I force another smile, trying to make my voice sound playful. “I’m supposed to be interviewing you, which means I ask the questions, mister.”

He lets out a short laugh, and I power on with my questions. Having reviewed my notes over the weekend—at least I tried to; I found concentrating on anything really challenging—I’ve decided I want today’s session to be about his teammates.

“Can you run through your teammates and tell me what each of their strengths are? I’d love to get a read on how you guys work together. I know there are different positions on the court and each of you bring something unique to each game. I’d like your take on the best setup and why you think it works.”

He’s nodding along as I do my spiel, looking pleased to be asked something he can easily answer.

And answer it he does.

With gusto, he makes great statements about each of his teammates. There’s obviously a lot of respect between the players, and I love the way he talks them up and highlights each of their roles.

“Sounds like you guys work great together.”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Until game day, right?”

I shrug. “I’ve never seen you guys play.”