Page 52 of What Are The Odds?
“I’m not anywhere near as good as my brothers,” she prefaced.
She passed me her phone, which was loaded on a video. Grace paddled onto a wave that looked daunting as hell to me. The black bikini she was wearing had ridden up, giving an amazing view of her ass. Smoothly, she pushed up, riding the wave in. Once the wave levelled, she walked back and forth on the board, as though it was on solid ground and not moving with the water.
“That looks pretty good to me,” I told her. I pressed my lips to her ear. “What are the odds you brought that bikini to Philadelphia?”
She playfully pushed me away. With my arm around her shoulder, we walked into class. It didn’t go unnoticed the way people cast us secondary glances. Girls that had once winked at me or slipped into my DMs studied Grace as I took the seat beside her.Just friendsGrace had told her brothers. Lucky they were on the opposite side of the world, because it wouldn’t look that way on the Phil-U rumour-mill.
“Looks like Richardson is a no-show,” I whispered to Grace as the professor walked in.
“He text saying he has an away game and asked me to take notes.”
I arched an eyebrow. “He texts you?”
“Yeah.” Grace looked at me quizzically. “What’s the big deal? You text me.”
“I get to text you because you’ve climaxed on my tongue.”
Grace’s blush was so adorable, but it also stirred something worrying in my stomach.
“Wait. He hasn’t done that too, has he?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. But not from embarrassment.
“You’re an idiot,” she said in response. “He’s my friend. Friends text.”
Fuck. He’d switched to the friend approach and I was the one actively seeking her out. But at least the action I’d had with Grace wasn’t because a kiss cam was pointed in our direction. I’d had her in my bed. And Grace wouldn’t have done the things we had unless she liked me too.
“He actually suggested we meet up to watch an AFL game. He still hasn’t seen one.”
I froze. “Just the two of you?”
Grace nodded.
“Are you going to go?” I pressed, hoping I sounded casual even though I didn’t feel it.
She nodded again. I didn’t like that response.
“Stella. Hey.”
Grace moved her bag off the seat beside her so Stella could sit down. I did my best to focus on the professor’s lecture, but it was near impossible. For each note Grace took, I simmered, thinking of her going over them with Richardson later. I couldn’t exactly tell Grace not to watch a game with him, and I couldn’t ask her not to go either. What would I say? Ryker and I made a bet and if you go, he’s more than likely going to try and make a move. I’d dug myself the biggest, most stupid hole known to man.
“Where did he suggest you watch it?” I whispered.
Grace slowly drew her focus from the professor.
“Huh?” she whispered back.
“The game,” I filled in.
With her pen wedged between her lips, she frowned at me.
“Oh, he, um, suggested I go to his place.”
“When?”
“Thursday.”
Of course he did. I had an away game then. I spent the rest of the lecture thinking of ways to stop Grace from spending one-on-one time with Richardson at his house. By the time the professor was wrapping things up, I had the perfect cover. I leaned over Grace, resting my elbow on the arm of her chair.
