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She laughs and reaches up to run a hand through her own hair. “Trust me, you do not want to deal with this. Men are so creepy about it.”

“And the ladies aren’t?”

Shit. Too flirty. Much too flirty.

It’s hard to keep the conversation platonic when all I can think about is straddling her lap and burying my own hands in that glorious auburn wonder of nature.

Clearly I’ve just answered my own question about the ladies being creepy.

Becca shrugs. “When it comes to the ladies, it does have its perks.”

Okay, that was flirty. Are we flirting?

“Damn.” I chuckle in a failed attempt to diffuse the tension. “Becca Moore, player extraordinaire.”

She snorts. It’s way too cute.

“The only thing I have time to play is lacrosse.”

“Spoken like a true player.”

We’re both laughing now. She swivels her head to scan my room, taking in all my decor. I watch her face, waiting for a reaction, but she keeps her expression fixed in the same slight smile as she looks around.

“This is nice,” she says after a moment. “Your whole house is so...homey.”

“That’s what the Babe Cave is all about. You should come back sometime when Jane has one of her scented candles lit. The one that smells like fresh bread really gets the homeyness going, and it’s much easier than actually baking bread.”

I’m rambling again, but Becca doesn’t seem to mind. She braces her hands behind her and leans back a little, relaxing her posture as she continues surveying my room. I try not to let my eyes drop to her tits.

Why does she have to have such amazing tits?

“It must be nice to be so close. Bailey and Rachelle are great to live with, but we don’t have the whole, like, bond of sisterhood thing going on, you know?”

I nod. “Do you have any sisters or brothers back home?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just me.”

“I’m sure that has its perks too. No fighting over the TV or who gets the shower and stuff like that.”

“Honestly, that would have been kind of nice.” She shrugs. “My aunt’s house was so quiet growing up.”

“Your aunt?”

I feel her tense up beside me. “Oh, uh, yeah.”

She chews on her lip for a second, like she’s debating how much more to say.

“My mom was kind of in and out, and my dad has a two weeks on, one week off schedule on the oil fields, so I mostly lived with my aunt.”

She’s trying to hide it, but I can hear the pain and loneliness in her voice, and it makes my chest ache. I lean back so we’re level with each other.

“That must have been tough.”

She dips her chin in a nod. “Sometimes. Sports helped. I played soccer when I was really young, and then I switched to lacrosse. I’ve always had a team, so it kind of feels like I didn’t totally miss out on having siblings. It brought me and my dad closer too. He was big into hockey growing up, so sports have always been a bonding thing for us.”

Her arm is so close I can feel the heat of it on mine. When I turn to look at her, the dim light from my desk lamp catches in her brown eyes and makes them spark.

“I’m glad you had that.” My voice has dropped to a whisper.