I saw it in her eyes. She tried damn hard to feign indifference, to look at me with empty eyes, but she needs to realize I can see right through her. Right into her clear blues. And somewhere in that caged-up, closed-off heart of hers, she knows. There’s more going on here than either of us has admitted. She wants me. She wasn’t looking for bragging rights, or to say she had sex with Nate Monroe, football protégé. Nah. She just wanted me. The hot-headed, hot-blooded guy, with a soft spot for the little blue-eyed, black-haired piece of perfection. I can’t wait to have her again. And again.
