Page 18 of Scoring Truth
“Most of us are.”
“Pfft. Says the studly quarterback.” I slap my hand over my mouth and mumble when I talk. “Mime morry.”
He chuckles. “Don’t apologize! I told you, never hide your true feelings. I want the truth at all times. Even if it hurts.”
I sigh. “I think that’s the problem. If they stick around past me tripping through the door or spilling iced tea, they don’t end up sticking around after I open my mouth a few too many times.”
“I don’t mind your open mouth.” Silence. “Oh my god, that’s not how I meant that to come out.”
Now it’s my turn to tease him. “I don’t know, Jameson, the truth always comes out!”
“Maybe you’re right. Okay, so how about this truth? I’vebeen thinking about you since we left the coffee shop, and I’d like to see you again before we take off on our overnight.”
My heart flutters just knowing he wants to see me again. But I can’t focus on that, so I deflect instead. “Do you watchThe Bachelor?”
“Will you think less of me if I say yes?”
“Your terminology is on point. It doesn’t matter if you try to deny it.”
“You got me. My guilty pleasure is reality television. It helps drown out the harsh reality I have sometimes.”
“Same here. I’ve been expected to be on top of my game at all times, so if I can just veg out with nonsense TV, I do it.”
“What do you do? I don’t believe it was mentioned in your bio.”
“Really? The one thing I’m super proud of, and they didn’t mention it.” Shaking my head, I realize that just confirms my friends think I can’t get a date because I’m a nerd. “I teach bioengineering at the local university.”
He whistles. “Damn, girl. You’re smart as fuck, aren’t you?”
I giggle at his words. “Iampretty smart as fuck.”
His breath catches. “Fuck,” he whispers the word again, but I hear it. And fuck is right. I’m getting turned on just listening to him breathe. He clears his throat. “So, another date first, or do we just jump right into the overnight?”
12
JAMESON
Apartment clean? Check.
Showered? Check.
Take-out bags tossed and dinner warming in the oven? Check and check.
I’m a twenty-three-year-old man. I don’t cook. So, a little white lie, but with good taste, won’t hurt me.
As my phone rings, and I check the time, I hope it's not Penelope cancelling on me. But when I see Mark's name dancing across my screen, I’m relieved. I check the time again because once this guy gets going, I may not be able to get him off the phone. And I’m not ready to tell him anything yet.
“Hey, Mark!”
“QB1! How ya doing?”
Smiling at his voice. “I’m good. You?”
He’s laughing, and Iknow he’s up to something. “I’m good. Great, actually. I’m here with your grouchy old dad and his radiant girlfriend.”
I can hear my dad cursing him out in the background.
“Why are you torturing my dad?”
