Page 25 of Pitcher Perfect
She’d be a changed woman afterward.
And somehow, some way, he’d make sure he wasn’t too much of a changed man.
“I give up,” Robbie muttered when his dick adopted a heartbeat. Giving himself a junk adjustment, he climbed out of the passenger side. Quick glance down to make sure the thing wasn’t pointing east like a weathervane, then he put as much swagger into his step as humanly possible, rolling to a stop in front of a curious-looking Skylar where she leaned back against the trunk, watching his approach. “It’s the first of the month, Rocket. Time to pay up.” He eased into her personal space, using his knuckle to tilt her head back. “You’ve been living in my head rent-free.”
She blinked, lips parting.
Nailed it.
A laugh burst out of her, the force of it causing her legs to lose their balance, her butt landing on the rear bumper. The girl was literally shaking.
“No, you didn’t,” she gasped, holding her ribs.
“What?”
“I hope you’re happy. You’ve disgraced this hallowed Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.” Skylar sailed through another round of laughter. “I can’t believe you used a pickup line on me.”
“Pickup lines exist for a reason,” Robbie defended. “A man has to start somewhere. You’re lucky I didn’t ask to buy you a coffee, because I like you a latte. I thought about it.”
She was laughing so hard at this point, her eyes were starting to turn glassy.
This wasn’t going well. At all.
Robbie loved the sound of her laugh, but he didn’t take her shocked amusement as a good sign when they were supposed to be flirting. Time to turn it up a notch. Which he hadn’t been required to do in... ever. And something inside of him, possibly his competitive nature or maybe just an intense need to appeal to this woman, had Robbie leaning down and hovering his mouth a hair away from Skylar’s. Close enough to taste orange juice on her breath. “You’re fucking beautiful all the time, but especially when you laugh.”
Ironically, her mirth died down, brown eyes running a curious lap around his face. “I’m already confused about flirting. So far, according to you, it’s either cheesy or intense. Isn’t it supposed to fall somewhere in between?”
“It’s a mixture of both. Making you laugh, but also making sure you know...”
“Know what?”
An exhale hissed out of him. “That I’d like to wake up tomorrow with your knees imprinted on my mattress.”
Her chest dipped. “Any girl’s knees, you mean.”
No. He didn’t. But this was her way of reminding him of the barrier between them, wasn’t it? This wasn’t real, no matter how much he wanted it to be. She was there to learn from him, not to make an actual connection. Still... “If we’re going to be convincing this week, maybe you just have to pretend I’m talking about you, Skylar. All the time.”
She thought about that, no idea it was the truth. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Taking her wrist, Robbie tugged her off the bumper. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.” He twined their fingers together, ignoring the lump that welled in his throat over how right it felt, and guided her toward the Dunkin’ entrance. “Pretend we’re a couple. We’ll keep working on flirting.”
Skylar’s wide-eyed gaze brushed over their joined hands. “Okay.”
“It’s your turn for a pickup line, so start thinking.”
“The pressure is on,” she muttered, following him into the air-conditioned shop, the coffee- and sugar-scented air enveloping them on all sides, “Smooth Operator” drifting out of the unseen speakers. There was nobody in line, so they walked up to the register hand in hand. Skylar ordered an orange juice and a chocolate glaze, while Robbie ordered three breakfast sandwiches and a large coffee, cream and sugar, please and thank you.
The young man working behind the counter handed Skylar her donut right away and she took a bite while they stepped aside and waited for Robbie’s food to be ready.
“Okay, I think I’ve got a pickup line. Be forewarned, it might be terrible.”
Robbie tried not to stare at her mouth as she chewed, knowing full well it would taste like chocolate oranges. Still sweating in all the places. “Let’s hear it, Rocket.”
She swallowed her bite, squared her shoulders like she was preparing to throw a pitch. “If you were this donut I’m eating, you’d already be inside me.”
Immediately, he choked on his spit, dissolving into a coughing fit right there in the middle of Dunkin’. “Holy shit, girl,” he managed.
“That bad?”
