Page 23 of Quarterback Crush
“Protein balls?” I raised my eyebrows. “Tell me more.”
Oliver’s laugh rumbled from deep in his belly. His dark eyes twinkled like the stars that were in hiding. “I make these peanut butter chocolate chia seed balls that have seven grams of protein each.”
“Oh wow!” I said, picking up on his passion. “You make your own recipes?”
“Yep. I like playing around with ingredients. I make a vanilla coconut almond one that’s pretty good too.”
“I’m impressed,” I said. “So, do you bake these balls or what?”
“Some recipes are baked, but if I’m in a rush I can whip some up in about five minutes and just refrigerate them.”
“Oliver Blackwell, the baker,” I said with a jesting smirk. “Who knew? That’s pretty awesome.”
“Really?” He seemed skeptical.
“Yes, really! It sounds amazing.”
“Thank you,” he said, quite bashfully.
“And yet you didn’t bring any for a snack?”
“Uhh, I just give them out to my gym buddies,” he said. “You know, after training.”
“Well, just remember I’m a huge peanut butter and chocolate and coconut fan.”
“Gotcha.” Oliver grinned. “And what else, Maya Shelton? What else do you like?”
“Me?” I gasped, shrugging awkwardly . “Oh, you know, orange and green M&Ms. Candy in general, I guess.”
“That’s all? There must be more,” Oliver said, his confidence returning. “I remember you used to dance and read on your front porch. In all weather, rain or shine.”
Yeah, trying to get a glimpse of you, my crush.
“And you used to go sledding,” Oliver continued.
“Goodness, I haven’t sled in ages. In years,” I said.
“We should do it then. This winter.”
I smiled, speechless, because 1) Oliver remembered me all those years ago, and 2) the snow didn’t fall for another month, maybe two. Surely the fake dating arrangement would be history by then.
“Yeah, maybe,” I murmured because Oliver was looking at me expectantly.
“Hey, we don’t want to waste this date,” he said.
“Huh?” I was clueless to what he meant.
But before I knew what was happening, Oliver’s lips were next to mine, in such close proximity that there was only one possible outcome. The kiss took me by surprise. After all, there was no need for it, no one around to take a photo or create more buzz. And I didn’t want to resist, not at all, but common sense and Sammy’s words popped into my head.
“But there’s no one here,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Oliver said.
“It is? But no one will see us.”
“It’s all good practice,” he said smoothly. “You know, so when people do see us, it looks real.”
“Oh,” I said, not in the mood to argue that logic. If he thought I needed kissing practice, I was happy to accept his tutelage.
