Page 44 of Biggest Player
The two feelings are not mutually exclusive.
“Tell me how you’re going to wrestle a bear, in the mud, and win,” I tease. “I want to hear it.”
“I didn’t mean literally,” he says at last, thieving yet another one of my fries. At this rate I won’t have any left; he is consuming them two or three at a time, the basket dwindling at a rapid pace as he jams them into his piehole.
And what a piehole it is.
I avert my eyes so he doesn’t catch me gawking at him. Dex isn’t my usual type, but who can resist a man built like him? Big. Broody. Good looking and rugged in an in-your-face kind of way. No doubt he has slept with dozens of women; no doubt he was irresistible in college.
I am a grade school teacher.
What am I doing sitting here with a man like this?
“So, besides the outdoors and audiobooks, what else are you into?”
We can’t possibly have any more in common, and I’m determined to prove it.
“I love pizza,” he blurts out.
My head cocks to the side. “Can pizza be considered a hobby?”
“Sure. I’m making it my mission in life to find the best slice.”
Of course he is.Why wouldn’t he be?“All right, fine. Pizza is your hobby.”
“What foods do you love?” He asks me in kind. “Like, what food would you travel the world for?”
“Um—if I could travel the world to find my favorite food, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I’d be in France.” I let a chuckle escape my throat.
“That doesn’t answer the question.” He chews on a fried calamari, double-dipping in the sauces, first marinara, then the ranch, making a mess out of both containers.
Ugh, this guy.
“I’m not sure—I love pasta.” But who doesn’t? “So maybe pasta. Or.” I nibble on my bottom lip as I ponder. “The world’s best risotto.”
Dex groans loud enough to wake the dead. “I love risotto!”
“Damn straight.”
“You haven’t had risotto until you’ve had Gordon Ramsay cook it for you.” He mentions one of the most famous chefs in the world as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb into the conversation, following his comment with a swig of beer.
Waiting for him to come up for air, I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.
He sets the glass on the counter. “What? What’s the look for?”
“You just casually mentioned that Gordon Ramsay has prepared you risotto.”
Dex shrugs his massive shoulders. “I mean, we were playing a game in London and he fed us.”
Playing a game in London.
What that life must be like.
I clear my throat. “So yeah. Risotto.” I have no idea what more to say. “Love it.”
“Oh!” he exclaims. “I love Christmas!”
I perk up. “You do?”
