Page 55 of The Play Maker

“Hey, you’re hot as fuck,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, flashing her a smile, coming off way too strong. I huff out a laugh. Rookie move. “Can I buy you a drink or something?”

Before Aurora can shut him down—given that she has a boyfriend—Cole jumps in. “She’s a venomous snake, man. I’d stay the hell away.”

Aurora doesn’t even blink. Her eyes narrow sharp enough to slice his throat, and honestly, I don’t doubt she wants to.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t touch your tiny dick even if you paid me.”

Logan chokes on his drink. My eyes widen, an amused smirk tugging at my lips. But Cole’s jaw locks tight, the muscle ticking.

“My dick’s nowhere near small, Viper,” he replies. “Too bad you’ll never find out.”

Aurora cocks her head, rolling her eyes. “Spare me the bullshit, Reaper. I bet you couldn’t find a woman’s clit with a map and a compass.”

The poor dude mutters something and scrams, disappearing into the crowd.

“Jesus,” Ryan mutters. “You two, cut it the fuck out before you scare Maisie off.”

Maisie’s standing there, mouth slightly open, shocked.

I lean in close, chuckling against her ear. “Don’t worry, they’re always like this.”

She smiles up at me.Christ. She has got to stop looking at me. Or like… do it forever. I don’t know which I want right now. My brain is muddled.

I shake my head, trying to steady myself. “Fuck, every time you smile at me, I forget what I was about to say.”

Her lips part just a little, and I swear I catch a blush rising in her cheeks.

“Oh wait,” Isabella says, perched on Ryan’s lap. “I’ve seen you before. You skate, right?”

Maisie’s gaze snaps to her, and she nods, surprised. “Yeah. I’m on the team.”

“You’re really good,” Isabella says with a warm smile. “I watch you skate sometimes when I’m waiting for the guys to get geared up.”

Maisie blinks, clearly not expecting that. “Thank you.”

And something about the way she says it, quiet and sweet, does something to me. And I realize this is probably the first time I’ve ever seen her really interact with other girls.

Maisie’s always alone, always quiet. Even when I pass her on campus, she’s off to the side, like she doesn’t quite belong anywhere.

I don’t know why that bothers me.

Maybe it’s because I like seeing her with my friends. Because she fits in here—with us.

When she laughs at something Isabella says, something in my chest eases.

I want her to laugh like that again.

I want her to be friends with my friends.

I want her to keep looking at me like I’m something other than the pain-in-the-ass student she’s been stuck tutoring.

Because now?

I’m not justlookingat her.

I’mseeingher.

And I don’t think I can stop.