Page 62 of Fielder's Choice

“You denying I’m hot, Ballerina?”

“No,” I reply honestly. “Especially when you take your shirt off.”

His laugh is deep and needy. “Never gonna wear a shirt around you again then, baby.”

“You really can’t help but constantly flirt with me, can you?”

“Second nature with you, Liv. Can’t control myself.”

I bite down a smile, loving how forthcoming he is with me. It makes me feel strong and powerful to have such an impact on somebody.

“So, what are you calling for?” I ask, twirling my hair around my finger like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush.

I think that’s half right.

“I haven’t heard from you since you left this morning.”

“You mean you haven’t seen me since Harvey awkwardly stared at us when you kissed me?”

Lane’s laughter echoes through the phone. “Just a little voyeurism for your Sunday morning.”

I shudder. “No, thank you.” I scrub a hand down my face to erase the thought that Lane just put into my head, instead focusing on why he called. “Did you miss me today, Hotshot?”

“Yeah, I did,” he says confidently, his voice deeper. “Given how I’ve been expressing my interest in you, that can’t be a surprise.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “Not a surprise,” I say softly. “But it’s always good to have a confidence booster.”

“Mmm, I’ll boost your confidence anytime you need, baby.”

“So what are you doing right now, Lane?”

“Just slipped into bed,” he states, voice strained like he’s stretching. “Sage fell asleep about an hour ago, so I took a shower. Now, I’m going to wind down for the night. And you’ll be happy to know that I’m shirtless again, too.”

I groan. “I regret telling you that.”

“Hey, I don’t mind a good confidence booster either. Like to know you’re looking at me. It makes me feel good.”

“Oh, please,” I scoff. “You have women staring at you every time you leave your penthouse, I bet.”

“Olive, you’re the only one I’m looking at,” Lane assures me. “They might be looking at me, but I sure as hell don’t see them.”

My insecurities rear back to the surface. “But why?” I ask softly. “They’re probably way less damaged than I am.”

“Fuck them,” he states emphatically. “I don’t care about them, Liv. I care aboutyou.”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I still struggle sometimes. I’ve been working on it in therapy for years.”

“Then allow me to boost your confidence again. You think you’re not enough to hold my attention, but don’t forget it wasyouwho made me hard yesterday.Twice.”

“Oh my God,” I blush, no doubt turning a deep shade of scarlet. “Did you, uh… take care of that?”

His laugh is raucous and deep. “Olive,” he says, still fighting a fit of giggles. “Are you asking if I masturbated while thinking of you?”

“No!” I shout, blushing even deeper. “I didn’t ask if you were thinking about me.”

“So you’re just asking if I masturbated in general?” I hear his smirk.

I cover my face with my free hand and will the ground to open and swallow me whole. “Can we stop saying masturbate?”

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