Page 28 of Lovesick
Everyone moves out of my way like they’re scared of being plowed down, except for one particularly rock-hard body that I end up slamming into halfway through my one-woman mission. And judging by the unmistakable scent of arrogance, I don’t have to wonder who interrupted my trek.
Even with my four-inch heels that, yes, I did buy to aid my conquest in being a successful businesswoman, I still have to glance up at the Neanderthal responsible for stranding me in the middle of a woman’s worst nightmare.
Crew Calloway.
There’s a towel slung low on his hips that emphasizes his pronounced V-line, and it takes some superhuman strength not to let my eyes wander below the belt. His torso looks better wet as each mountain ridge of muscle glistens underneath a light mist. A thin stream of water even snakes down the divot in his heaven-sent abs, merging into the neatly kempt happy trail that’s grade-A catnip to my stupid, hormonal ovaries.
This is bad. Oh, this is really bad. Control yourself, woman! He’s just a man with a conventionally attractive physique.
“If you wanted an excuse to see me naked again, you could’ve just asked,” Crew says, his damp hair falling into hiseyes when he inclines his head. I want to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his face. Or attack it with my lips.
Shit, I need to be sedated.
“If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a nickel at it,” I hiss, stamping down the pressure budding south of the border and shouldering past him to reduce my Crew exposure as much as possible.
I don’t get very far with his freakish reflexes and broad frame.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why not a dollar?”
“You’re not worth that much.”
“Luckily for you, Princess, you can have all this for free.”
My stomach lurches up my throat. “Ugh, I’d rather gag myself.”
Crew drags his tongue over his teeth. “Ooh, kinky. Can I watch?”
Grumbling, I punctuate my annoyance with a light shove to his stomach, and he finally grants me passage, though his eyes follow me every step of the way—hungry, possessive, half-lidded. Cognizance crawls up the vertebrae of my spine, and no matter how hard I try to break free from Crew’s spell, lust pools in my belly like rainwater plinking into a cenote. I feel like I’m about to pass out, and it’s not from the heat.
I knock on my father’s office door, announce my presence, and slip inside the safety zone before Crew gets any other creative ideas. There’s no saying what would’ve happened if he touched me looking like…that. Vibrators aren’t even satisfactory anymore. I was flicking the bean last night for a whole hour and still didn’t get anywhere. But one glance at Crew Calloway andpoof, my clothes fly off like they’re tearaways.
My dad looks up from his work and takes off his reading glasses. “Merit?”
I wave awkwardly. “Hi, Dad. Um, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I wanted to ask you something.”
His brow quirks. “And this couldn’t have waited until after school?”
According to Mrs. Burke, no, no it could not. I’m pretty sure that woman would sacrifice her firstborn child to make this fundraiser run smoothly.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, wringing my hands behind my back.
“It’s fine, pumpkin. Next time, though, if it’s that important, call me, okay? I don’t want you walking around in the men’s locker room.”
No need to tell me twice.
Anxiety strikes a chord within me, gearing my pulse into overdrive. My heart is operating at an immeasurable cadence, and potential disappointment breaks over the cloud-studded horizon in gunmetal gray.
Suddenly, I’m roasting like a pig. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This is my dad. His love for me overshadows his hunger for victory, right?
“Uh, so, I’m taking a marketing class this semester, and I’m head chair of MU’s fundraiser this year.”
“That’s fantastic news, Merit.”
“Right. Well, we’re trying to raise money for inner-city schools to have access to certain sports programs, and Mrs. Burke decided to focus on hockey,” I squeak, wiping my clammy palms on my pants.
My father’s hard to read sometimes. He doesn’t look frustrated, he just looks…constipated?
“Mm-hm.”
