Page 64 of The Love Playbook

I sigh. “Do we have to rehash this? It was nothing,” I say, hating how it feels like I’m trying to convince myself more than her.

“Let me think.” She hums. “Yes! I seem to recall you and Samantha going wild when you found out that Jace and I lockedlips for the first time. You wanted details, and you got them, so I intend to collect.”

I groan and flop back down on my bed, grateful at least that I’m only having to discuss this with Brynn and not all the girls. “I pulled Chris aside to ream him out for showing up because we both know their invite was no accident.”

“Agreed.”

“He started hating on Danger, and the next thing I know, he’s pressing me up against the wall and assaulting my mouth. And you know, maybe it would’ve been hot, but as usual he ruined it afterward by opening up his big, fat mouth.”

“What? Why? What did he say?” Brynn asks in alarm.

“He tapped my head and said ‘If you’re going to spend the rest of the night talking with him, then I’m going to be up here every fucking second.’”

Brynn grunts. “Damn that’s hot.”

“Um, no. Not hot. It was infuriating. I mean, who does he think he is?”

The words are punctuated by a knock on the door.

I frown, rising to my feet. “Hold on,” I say as I turn the lock and open it. “Someone’s?” The words die in my throat the minute I see Chris standing there, all sleepy-eyed and rumpled like he’s just rolled out of bed, a drink holder with two paper cups in his hand.

My gaze flickers down the oversized Griffins football hoodie he’s wearing to the gray sweats, and my mouth goes dry.

“Tell Chris I said hi,” Brynn singsongs over the line.

I grip the phone harder. “Traitor!” I hiss, turning away from him. “You knew he was on his way over here. That’s why you kept me on the phone, isn’t it?”

“Er, maybe? I mean, he may or may not have woken me and Jace at the ass crack of dawn to grill me on your favoritebreakfast foods, so be nice. Gotta go. Bye!” she shouts, and then the line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, holding it in a death grip before I spin back around and glare at the man in front of me. Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against my door frame, unwilling to let him inside. “What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you breakfast.” He shakes a paper bag out in front of me. “What does it look like?”

Chris flashes me a goofy grin, and I hate that it does funny things to my chest.

“I have a meal plan and perfectly good food waiting for me at the dining hall.” I start to slam the door in his face, but not before Chris’s leg darts out with catlike reflexes and knocks it back open.

“Yes but does the dining hall have your favorite chai tea?” he asks, brushing past me to step inside the room.”

“Um, excuse me?” I start, but before I can finish, he swivels around and freezes, gaze locked on my chest, the glint of something dark in his eyes I can’t place.

I glance down at the hoodie, unsure of what he finds so offensive when it clicks. It’s an AAUSoccerhoodie, which means he knows exactly where I got it from?or rather,whoI got it from?but he doesn’t knowhow.

Oh, this can be fun.

I pinch the jersey out in front of me and glance down. “Like it?”

“What the fuck, Lettie?” He stares, his gaze unblinking as the muscle flexes in his jaw.

“What? You don’t like it?” I ask, rubbing the fabric with a hand, practically purring when I say, “It’s a little big on me, but it’s so soft. Kept me warm all night.”

“Change.” The deep timbre of his voice takes an ominous tone. “Now.”

“I don’t think I want to,” I say, and then, knowing I’m playing with fire based on the murderous gleam in his eyes, I lift the fabric to my nose and inhale, closing my eyes as if in ecstasy. “Still smells like him.”

It doesn’t. It smells like beer and the Taco Bell take-out I got at midnight on the way home after giving up on Danger because Chris was all I could think about, but I’m sure as hell not about to tell him that.

“I’m serious.” Chris fake gags, retching sound and all, as he says, “I can’t fucking eat while you’re wearing that thing.”