Page 84 of Biggest Player
“Oh my God, Margot. How are you sitting here casually teaching first grade like there isn’t some big hunky football guy falling at your feet?” She smacks the tabletop. “This is like every girl’s dream!”
“Surely not every girl’s dream.”
Eh. It’s certainly not mine.
The reality is, I have no desire to be surrounded by chaos and Goliath men, or women who chase those men. Not to mention Dex has flip-flopped about his feelings more than once. We haven’t committed to each other yet, but we are giving it a chance.
“The selfish part of me was curious to know what dating someone like that is like.” Not that I want to compare it to a science experiment, because that makes me sound like a selfish jerk. “He really is larger than life.”
Large, as in huge.
I’m picking at the slices of the apple I’m not craving, mulling over the idea of Dex while my friend drones on and on. Eventually she notices I’m not paying attention and gives the tabletop a few raps of her knuckles, the way we do with our classes to get their attention.
“You are so lucky.” She sighs. “I bet he’s so romantic. I thought Mark was so exciting when we started dating.” Another sigh. “Now he farts in front of me and scratches his nuts, and all the mystery is gone.”
Ew.
I don’t love that for her.
“You’re right—he’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.” Or dated. Or been in a relationship with.
Shit. He’s not even like anyone I’ve been in the same room with!
He’s the total opposite of Colton, who by comparison is conservative, buttoned up, and opinionated. A real turd.
Not that Dex isn’t opinionated ... if he weren’t, he may have been more open minded to dating a single mom when we first matched.
Still, here we are.
Cora and I continue eating (only ten minutes left of recess!), chatting about students, which parents have emailed or called to complain, and upcoming lesson plans. But every few minutes Cora brings the conversation back to Dex.
“Are you going to tell me his last name, or do I have to drag it out of you?” My friend has her phone out.
“Why?”
“So I can stalk him.”
I snort. “At least you’re honest.”
“Listen,” she deadpans. “Mark will be on one end of the couch watching some stupid comic book movie when I get home—then I’ll plop down on the other end and play on my phone. At least give me something to google while we’re ignoring each other tonight. Some eye candy.”
My brows raise. “How do you know he’s eye candy?”
“He plays football,obviouslyhe’s eye candy.”
I titter. “His last name is Lansing. But can you do me a huge favor and not turn this into a full-blown investigation? Don’t go liking and double tapping all his stuff. If he notices and pokes back on you, he’sgoing to see me on your profile page, and then what am I going to tell him? My friends are creeps?”
Cora isn’t convinced. “Who cares? He’s a guy. They don’t give a shit about things like that, and besides, I bet he pays someone to do his social media.”
That sounds likely.
He mentioned a chef, so I’m sure he has a cleaning lady—all the things I would kill for if I had the money.
Le sigh.
Must be nice.
“What’s this date you have tonight?”
