Ep 3

Now, they examined her with a mix of amusement and concern.

“You’re not a wall,” she blurted.

“No, I’m not.” The not-a-wall cocked an eyebrow. A hint of a smile

played over his lips. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but

that’s a new one.”

Farrah fought the flush of embarrassment spreading across her

face. Of all the people she could’ve run into, she had to run into

Blake Ryan.

Even though she wasn’t a sports fan, she knew who he was.

Everyone did. A hotshot football player from Texas who caused a

national uproar when he quit the team at the beginning of the year.

Besides the Sports Illustrated cover, Farrah remembered Blake from

an ESPN documentary about the most talented college athletes in

the country. Farrah’s roommate last year forced her to watch it

because she was obsessed with the point guard on CCU’s

basketball team, and she needed someone she could gush to.

It’d been the most boring seventy-five minutes of Farrah’s life, but

at least there’d been plenty of eye candy, none of whom were dishier

than the Texan standing in front of her.

Six feet two inches of tanned skin and chiseled muscle, topped

with golden hair, glacial blue eyes, and cheekbones that could cut

ice. He wasn’t Farrah’s type, but she had to admit the boy was fire.

Blake looked the way she’d pictured Apollo looking when she

learned about Greek mythology in seventh grade.

“Well, you’re really hard.” The words slipped out before Farrah

could catch them.

I did not just say that out loud.The flush traveled from her face to the rest of her body. No matter

how hard she prayed, the floor didn’t open up and swallow her

whole, that bastard.

Blake’s other eyebrow shot up.

“I mean, your chest is really hard. Nothing else. Although I’m sure

it could be hard if it wanted to.”

Kill me.

The hint of amusement blossomed into a full-fledged grin,

revealing twin dimples that should be classified as lethal weapons.

“It sure can,” Blake drawled. “Especially when I’m around

someone as beautiful as you.”

Farrah’s mortification screeched to a halt. “Oh, please. Do they

actually work for you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your cheesy pickup lines. Do they actually work for you?”

“I’ve never had any complaints. Besides, look at me.” Blake

gestured at himself. “I don’t need pickup lines.”

“Wow.” Farrah shook her head. Typical jock. “It must be difficult

walking around with such a big head.”

“Babe, that’s not the only part of me that’s big.”

Farrah couldn’t help it; her eyes dropped to the region below

Blake’s belt. An image of what hid behind the denim flashed through

her mind’s eye. Her mouth went dry.

“I’m talking about my chest, of course.” Blake shook with

laughter.

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