Page 84 of Pitcher Perfect
Friends who’d gone down on each other.
If she decided against them, he’d be in love with a woman who didn’t love him back.
Winded in the face of that reality, Robbie got down on the floor and started to make himself at home on the pallet, wincing when Skylar started to rustle around in the bedding. Had he woken her?
Damn, her ass looked juicy in those shorts.
Sadly, those squeezable buns were out of sight a moment later because she turned over onto her back, stretching, revealing her stomach. The low flannel waistband. And yeah, he didn’t get hard over the thought of a whipped cream bikini these days, but he was definitely tenting his boxers over a girl in full-on pajamas.
She’s not even awake, pervert. Go to bed.
“Robbie?” Skylar yawned.
“Hey,” he blurted, coming up on his knees and walking to the edge of the pallet, his stupid pulse racing at the unexpected luck to talk to her. “Hey, Rocket.”
She turned on her side, propped herself up on an elbow, and he tried not to sigh like a lovelorn poet as she blinked the grogginess away. “What time is it?”
“Just after eleven thirty.” Try to stop him from smoothing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It couldn’t be done. She looked way too soft. “Did you know your father has a secret karaoke fetish? We couldn’t get him off the mic until last call. He was singing ‘Yellow Submarine’ to a bunch of empty tables.”
Skylar’s mouth dropped open. “You have to be talking about someone else’s dad.”
“I’m afraid not—and I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.”
“Not Elton doing karaoke,” she gasped.
“His poison of choice is ‘It Makes Me Ill’ by NSYNC. And it did. Make me ill.”
She pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh, her eyes shining in the near darkness. “What about you? Did you sing?”
“Nah.” He paused, let his head fall forward. “All right, maybe one.”
“Which one?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m going to find out.”
“Fine. Find out tomorrow. But I’ll have a better chance of you letting me kiss you good night if you don’t find out until then.”
Maybe hewasa lovelorn poet, because he’d never seen anything prettier than the moonlight on her blushing cheeks. Then Skylar whispered, “You have a pretty good chance already,” and his cock went fully erect. His blood rushed south so fast he could only kneel there and attempt to regain his equilibrium while she scooted over to the far side of the bed. “Please share the bed with me. You deserve better than the floor after enduring dive bar karaoke.”
“Jesus. You’re not wrong...” Robbie’s laugh was quiet and incredulous. “I’m lying, I actually enjoyed every second of it.”
A dimple popped on her cheek. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. They’reyourfamily.”
She softened into the pillow, watching him like she was holding her breath.
He needed something here. From her. What, though? He’d only admitted his feelings and declared his intentions to her that morning. She’d had less than twenty-four hours to start considering him as a possible love interest. A real one. Not a fake boyfriend or a sex instructor or substitute teammate.
Stop expecting so much so soon.
That’s what logic told him.
His heart was another story. It wanted answers.
“Are you considering me, Skylar?”
