Page 181 of Becoming Us
That did it. A soft laugh slipped past his lips, and he grinned. He had dimples.
Fuck me.
“I’m not huge,” he muttered, sheepish.
That shy smile just about ended me.
“You are. And you’re blunt. It’s like you don’t know how to soften your words.”
His lips stayed curved. The right dimple was deeper than the left.
“Sorry.”
I shook my head and stepped closer. My thoughts stopped making sense. All I could think about was closing the distance. Seeing those cheeks up close. Maybe tasting them too.
“And you stare,” I added. “A lot. Without saying anything. It’s a little unnerving. It’s like I’m not even sure if you find me really fucking annoying?—”
His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I don’t.”
That made me smile.
His eyes—those eyes—were the most intimidating thing about him. Cold at first glance, but if you held the stare long enough, everything was right there. He was nervous. I was making him nervous. And that was written all over his face.
I took one last step forward, landing between the open V of his legs. His eyebrows shot up. He noticed the distance shrinking —didn’t say a word—and his throat worked around a thick swallow. He wassointo me.
I dropped my voice. “Or if you like me.” There. No more circling.
He cleared his throat in the most obvious nervous gesture; his neck flushing a little deeper. “I don’t mind you.”
Oh, sweetheart. Don’t start lying now.
“Good.” I pressed my lips together to keep from smirking. “I don’t mind you either.”
I didn’t move. Just let the closeness speak for me. And he didn’t look away. Just sat there, staring.
“You’re doing it again.”
Atticus blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
I laughed. He wassodamn cute. “It’s fine, Atticus.”
How do I get past that wall? How do I get even closer?I ran his name through my head. It was too formal. Too…much.
“Atticus, Atticus,” I muttered, thinking aloud.
Okay. Maybe the weed was hitting.
“What?” That golden-retriever look made an appearance again.
“What do your friends call you? Att, right? That’s what Col calls you.”
“Yeah. That, or my last name, I guess.”
“What’s your last name?”
“You’ve heard the team say it.”
I frowned, thinking. Had I? “Nope. I’ve heard them call you Att and King. But that’s like a volleyball thing.”
