Page 16 of A Better Place

I roll my eyes and huff. “Oh fine. I saw it.”

He grins at my act of annoyance. “And he better be up for a challenge.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Grady’s protective. Brandon, too.”

“Who’s Brandon?”

“Tess and Barrett’s best friends since childhood, their son. He’s known Maggie since she was born. The family is close.”

“Does Brandon…” I hesitate, not wanting to speak further.

“What?”

“Well, does he… have feelings for her?”

His eyes widen, and he barks out a laugh, his shoulders shaking against me. “Are you for real?”

“Well, yeah. I mean. It’s like one of my favorite romance genres to read about. Brother’s best friend.”

“I’m not really sure what a genre is, but the whole idea of Brandon and Maggie? No way. Not the case.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive. It’s not that way,” he assures me.

Part of me wants to push further because this was my son’s heart on the line, and he may only be sixteen years old, but I’ve never seen him look at or talk about a girl the way he talks about Maggie. But a bigger part of me? The part that is growing increasingly more confused every single minute of this bizarre day? Doesn’t give a flying monkey because that part trusts James. I should probably feel entirely freaked out by this, but for whatever reason I’m not. And for once in my life, I’m not going to question it.

Liberty won, which means we’re going to the playoffs. When the buzzer sounds through the football stadium, indicating the end of the fourth quarter and another win for our boys in red and black, everyone stands and cheers wildly.

My heart is already pumping, excited for Jack and his teammates, but what makes me almost come out of my skin is the feel of James’s arm that wrapped around my waist when he gave me a side hug to celebrate the win, lifting me slightly off the ground because of our height difference. Instinctively, my arm goes around his shoulders, and for the life of me, I can’t remove it.

James gives my waist a light squeeze and looks down at me as he sets me on my feet, my arm naturally falling from his shoulders down to around his waist. My breathing suddenly feels shallow and short. It’s not lost on me that the hold, both physically and emotionally, we have on each other is far more intimate than what is appropriate for our one day of knowing each other. But I can’t bring myself to care.

He clears his throat, and I bite the corner of my bottom lip again. At this rate, it’s going to be gnawed clean off, and I’ll be left with a gaping hole in the corner of my mouth.

“Hey.” Crap. His voice is sexy, especially when it’s low like this. His eyes are still on mine, making my body heat from the top of my head to my toes.

“Hi.”

He smiles brilliantly. His eyes move from my eyes to my mouth and slowly back up.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

Throughout the game, we cheered and chatted. It felt natural, and nowhere in the evening did I feel uncomfortable around him. In fact, it was just the opposite. But the way he’s looking at me now? It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, so to speak, but definitely makes me a little twitchy. I don’t know what to do with the way he’s made me feel… basically all day long.

I stare blankly at him. I know he said something I’m supposed to respond to, but all I can think about is how his voice sounds… and lips look… and his eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea that never seem to be too far from me. He makes me dizzy with a feeling I haven’t felt in decades, if ever. Even my ex, Vince, never made me feel this way.

“Carly?” he asks quietly. Through the sounds of the crowd still cheering and talking, excited for the win, all I hear is his voice. Around us people move, yet we stay still.

I blink my eyes to shake myself out of the trance we have fallen into.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Didn’t you just do that?”