Page 9 of Score on You

I’m transfixed on the motion for a moment. “Until what?”

“He finally tells you himself.” She pauses before adding, “I suppose he needs to talk to you first. Maybe break the ice.”

The room spins as I try to calculate the meaning behind her words. I’m overwhelmed in the best possible way. My knees quake and I fight the urge to collapse on what looks to be the most comfortable sofa in existence. Plans and ideas and anticipation are spilling in at a rapid pace. The apparent conversations I’ll have with Ridge hold the most promise. And I haven’t seen the rest of the house yet.

“I can live here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“With it just like this?” I point at the appeasing layout.

Harper’s eyebrows bounce. “According to Ridge.”

“Shouldn’t the owner be involved?”

“Beats me. He took charge of the situation.”

A shiver pebbles my skin. I don’t want to be controlled, but something about that man giving orders taunts an enthusiastic part of me. “Is he… bossy?”

“That’s one way of putting it. Speaking of the grump, he asked me to pass this along for you to call or text.” She pulls a rectangular card from her purse.

I smooth my thumb over the embossed lettering. “He wants me to contact him about the rental?”

“Yep, he’s got you covered. Don’t settle for any slim jimmy. Ridge will provide all the beef and jerky you need.”

My nose wrinkles. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“It’s only a matter of time until you do.” Harper leans forward, as if she’s about to share a secret. “You’re about to be very attached to him.”

Drake shifts on the recliner for the sixteenth time in two minutes. I’m not counting on purpose, but the damn leather squeaks with each subtle movement from his ass. The grumbling under his breath is another annoyance entirely. It’s as if he came over just to test my nonexistent patience.

At this point, I’m just waiting for him to make a monumental announcement. Either that or he has to take a shit. After another restless adjustment, he finally opens the floodgates.

“You’re a hypocrite.”

I don’t bother taking my eyes off the game to glare at him. “Try again.”

“Nope, it’s true. You can dish it out, but you can’t swallow your own advice. Look at how the key has slid into a different lock.”

“That’s not a saying.”

Drake scoffs. “It is now.”

My eyes roll at his determination to distract me from hockey. “Don’t pretend you weren’t part of that gang bang.”

He takes a cheap shot at my knee. “Never said I wasn’t. The difference is that if I had a sweet little thing—”

“You better not be referring to Callie as such.” The warning vibrates from my harsh tone.

“What would you prefer?”

“That she doesn’t cross your mind to begin with. Keep her name out of your mouth while you’re at it.”

“Well, shit. Someone ate his caveman cereal this morning.” His chuckle is too amused, grating on my final frayed nerve. “As I was saying, I wouldn’t be sitting here with your grumpy ass if the skate was on the other foot.”

“Now you’re fucking up sentiments on purpose.”

“It’s getting you to respond more than usual.”

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