Page 18 of Draft Pick

“Pretty much, although judging by your expression….maybe I overshot my charm?”

I laughed despite being mildly embarrassed that I looked like a drowned rat in a fluffy robe. “I don’t know about that; you’re pretty charming — but I’m kinda rusty on the whole one-night-stand thing. Is pizza and beer afterward a thing?”

“Not usually,” he admitted, pausing to ask, “Um, can I come in?”

Realizing I’d left him standing in the open doorway, I ushered him in and shut the door, my cheeks heating. I was not a very good hostess — or very good at the one-and-done. Also, I was starved, and that pizza smelled amazing.

But maybe this was exactly what I’d been considering. He seemed open to something casual, and I wouldn’t mind the FWB thing with Cason — with guidelines, of course — so maybe this was a sign from the universe that I should make the offer.

How does one go about making an offer like that? ‘Oh, hey, Cason, would you mind being my on-call booty buddy with absolutely no strings attached and no expectation of fidelity from either of us?’ Would that work?

It sounded kinda lawyer-y.

“You got some paper plates and napkins?” Cason asked as he maneuvered the box onto the tiny dinette table we used for eating, homework, and sometimes folding laundry.

“No, but I have two plastic plates and a serving platter that I found at a yard sale,” I said with a small embarrassed chuckle, explaining, “paper plates are expensive and I’m between pay checks.”

Cason didn’t miss a beat, saying, “Plastic works for me,” as he cracked open a beer and slid one over to me. I didn’t want to be tickled by his gesture, but it was oddly sweet. I hated constantly comparing Derek and Cason — mostly because I didn’t want to think about Derek ever again — but Derek hadn’t been the chivalrous type. It just wasn’t in his nature, I’d told myself when he failed to consider me. Now that I had some distance, I realized I’d spent a lot of time making excuses for behavior that was simply shitty.

“You got quiet…you okay?”

I smiled, not wanting to share my thoughts about my ex. “Yep. Just still caught off guard by your visit. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good pizza, but I thought that…well, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

He pulled a slice free, the gooey cheese stretching against the laws of physics like it did in a good commercial. Cason plopped it on the plastic plate, and handed it to me before answering, “So, here’s the thing, something’s been eating at me and the only way I figured I’d get an answer was to go straight to the source.”

I stilled, curious but wary. “Which is?”

“Do you have…ametal detectorin your room?”

Oh god, he noticed? Should I lie? Kinda hard to pretend it’s anything other than what it is, though. No, I wasn’t going to lie. I was a terrible liar anyway. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “Yes,” I answered boldly, refusing to be embarrassed. “It’s a hobby of mine.”

I held my breath for the inevitable jokes that usually followed that admission, but Cason just nodded with a “Cool” before taking a bite of his pizza, curiosity satisfied.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” I couldn’t help myself. “My friend Darby thinks it is.”

Cason shrugged, wiping the cheese grease from his mouth, “Each to their own. Plus, I don’t know, what if you find something valuable? People lose shit all the time. Hell, one time we were vacationing in the Caribbean and my mom lost her wedding ring. Never even realized it was gone until it was too late. Someone’s going to have a great fucking day when they stumble across that two-carat diamond in the sand.”

Excitement – not because his mom lost her wedding ring but because someone else understood — made me forget my awkwardness, and I squealed. “Exactly! That’s what I told Darby! I actually did find a ring the first time I went combing the beach. It wasn’t like a diamond or anything but I’m sure it had sentimental value to someone. I felt bad and thought about posting something on Facebook about a lost ring but Darby said I’d end up getting a lot of weirdos so I didn’t do it.”

“Your friend Darby sounds like a good time,” Cason quipped. “Real believer in humanity, huh?”

I laughed. “You met her at the bar. She was the short, bossy blonde who kept ordering shots.”

“Sorry, everyone but you was a blur.”

I swallowed, my ovaries tingled, and I nearly jumped into his lap and humped his leg.Calm down, girl,and get real. That line was pulled straight out of the Player 101 Handbook. “I don’t believe that for a second,” I said, calling him out as I plucked a pepperoni and popped it in my mouth. “I’m not the one who gets the most attention when I go out with friends.”

“Then wherever you’re going, people are fucking blind.”

What was happening right now? Was this a game? Was Cason trying to play me? I’d seen too many movies to know that the curvy friend got played by the hot guy. He was being too sweet. Too perfect — and that was a big red flag. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort, but just level with me. What do you want, Cason?” I asked, going straight to the point.

“You think I’m here for any other reason than I like being around you?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged.

“C’mon, Starlie, you don’t believe in stereotypes, right?”

“Experience has taught me that stereotypes exist for a reason.” I shifted, uncomfortable with how much that simple statement revealed. Had I been bullied in the past, made fun of, or generally ignored because of my curves — sure, but I tried not to let the pain of rejection become my identity. Still, there were times when it hurt, just the same.

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