Page 32 of Fashionista's Playbook

“I wasn’t talking about my hips, Mariposa.”

A second before her cheeks blushed bright red, her tongue darted out across her bottom lip as if she were picturing what I was talking about.

That time, my groin did more than twitch.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Moriah

Watching television with Travis was not a date.I repeated this to myself at least a dozen times as I finished up work early on Tuesday. Having acclimated to the job, it became clear to me how very much went into Travis’ life. It wasn’t just wake up, play ball, rinse and repeat. There were sponsorship obligations, team obligations, and everything in between.

And he still had a vision to help others, with no problem cutting time out of his hectic schedule to do so.

The bouncing ball of nervous energy in my stomach was more frantic than Travis’ casual game of catch he played when stressed.

We were hanging out and watching a show, and this wasn’t something I should get excited about. Except, I was.

I’d paired a purple t-shirt with a plunging v-neck that slimmed at the waist with a pair of gray yoga pants—the sort that made my ass stand out more than my hips. Accentuating my bust and bottom because those were my best attributes. And maybe because I’d caught him looking a few times.

You’re kidding yourself.If he had checked me out, it was a fluke. The Jersey Chasers after Travis were way better looking than I’d ever be.

That thought flushed my excitement down the proverbial toilet. I exchanged a sad glance with my reflection in the darkened screen of my laptop. I was cute, but in this world, that wasn’t enough. Better to not get my hopes up.

I’d been making use of the gym when Travis wasn’t here and I was feeling better, stronger. I’d given up on losing weight years ago. I had no interest in trying to fit someone else’s definition ofthe stereotypical perfect body. But that was before women that did had become…what exactly?My competition.

I blinked back the odd envious emotion that stabbed at my chest.

A few minutes before seven, I clicked send on my last email of the day, shut my laptop down, and jogged down the stairs into the den. The dark wood panels on the walls and the muted lighting made it look like the interior of a pirate ship.

Travis was already there.

What woman wouldn’t salivate over a man like that? But it was the tiny little tickles of pleasure, of genuine excitement to see him that worried me.

He glanced over as I walked in, then let his gaze travel up and down the length of me in the way a guy does when he likes what he sees.Nope, didn’t imagine that.

Heat buzzed across my skin and settled in my core, stoking an excited fire. There was a canny, flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. Were my thoughts that obvious? Did heknow?

I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tingling sensations. I didn’t need any bumps in the road, even undeniably sexy ones.

“Week two, and I’ve been on more dates with you, Mariposa, than I have in years.”

“Are you serious?” How was a guy like Travis not taking women out all the time?

The corner of his lip twitched. “In college, I never had time. Between football and classes, doing all of it without a support system—” He shrugged but didn’t go on.

No support, because Vincent had been in jail until he hadn’t and well, that hadn’t gone so well. From what I’d read, Vincent’s release had been the catalyst to Travis losing his scholarship and being deemed ineligible to play or to be drafted. Something about taking payment from alumni—which was against the rules.

He never talked much about his past, and when he did, it was something I cherished.

“And now?” I asked, more curious than I should have been. And probably a fair share jealous too. I’d stopped listening to that damn podcast because it got me all worked up about stuff I shouldn’t be.

The slow, devilish twist of his lips landed straight into parts of me rarely invigorated. I inhaled a sharp breath, and very slowly settled onto the couch.

When he shifted beside me, some of the distance between us disappeared. My entire body itched to close the rest of that gap.

Never one to abide extended silences, I carried on. “Well, I’m glad I have somebody to watch this mess with. Makes things more interesting.” Boy, did it ever.

“Me too.” He said in a tone as sleepy as his eyes and tossed an arm over the back of the couch.

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