jayhawkbb Quarterback Sneak

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

underwear and shorts on the floor, pausing to put them on before I head up the hall. I pick up my bra
and t-shirt, stop to grab a ponytail holder out of my purse and go into the small bathroom near the
kitchen.
Once I'm fully clothed and have pulled my messy hair up, I walk into the kitchen. I start the coffee, and
then dig around in Cullen's refrigerator, trying to find something to cook him for breakfast. While the
eggs and turkey bacon are sizzling on his fancy stove, I sip hot coffee, remembering my dad telling me
he would load up on carbs the day before a game. I don't know if Cullen does that or not, but as soon as
I put the eggs and bacon on a plate for him, I decide to look for oatmeal.
I open and close three cabinets without finding any, but when I open the fourth door, my mouth drops
open in surprise.
"What the hell, Cullen?" I mutter under my breath.
"It smells great out here," he calls from down the hallway. I grab the incriminating object from the shelf,
hiding it behind my back and turning toward the doorway to face him. "You didn't have to fix me
anything."
His hair is still wet when he walks into the kitchen. Thinking of him in the shower almost makes me lose
my train of thought, but I force myself to refocus. "Don't get used to it. I'm not very domestic."
He chuckles, and then notices that I'm holding something. "What do you have back there?"
"Evidence."
"Evidence of what?"
"Your duplicity."
"What are you talking about?" He's confused& and amused.
"You, Cullen, who gave me shit for having a bunch of junk food in my grocery cart only three short
weeks ago, have this in your cabinet," I declare dramatically, producing the box of Frosted Flakes from
behind my back with a flourish worthy of a television courtroom. "Would you care to explain the presence
of Tony the Tiger alongside the Kashi and Shredded Wheat?"
"It's not mine," he claims, holding his hands up innocently.
"Oh, Cullen, come on," I huff. Frowning, I try to look disappointed, but it's difficult because he's really
freaking cute. "I expected a more creative excuse from you."
"I'm telling the truth! Look at the box. It's never been opened," he insists, moving to stand right in front of
me. Glancing down, I see that he's right; the top is still sealed. When I look back up, his cheeks are
flushed. "I got it for you."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Huh?"
"I bought it that night I saw you at the grocery store," he replies, looking sheepishly at me.
That answer certainly steals my gotcha thunder& and my breath. "Why?" I whisper.
He shrugs slightly and lowers his eyes before he answers. "Because after I saw you that night, I decided
I wouldn't give up until I convinced you to give me a shot." He pauses to swallow. "I'd never wanted to
know someone so much before I met you. And I thought& I hoped& that since you knocked down an
entire display of food trying to run away, maybe you were affected by me, too."
I was, but I'm not about to deal with the intensity of those feelings right now. Following my usual pattern, I
divert.
"So, you planned to lure me here with sugary cereal?" I grin, even though he's not looking at me and
even though I'm still not breathing quite right. "Nice tactic. Simple yet effective. Brilliant yet, given how
awful I looked that night, seriously misguided."
"Bella, you're beautiful," he says, his voice low as he lifts his gaze to meet mine again, "whether you're
dressed up, dressed down or not dressed at all."
As I fight not to let my knees buckle, I set the cereal box down on my right without looking, hearing it tip
over on the counter.
"What are you trying to do to me?" I mumble, reaching for him. I wrap my arms around his waist as he
steps forward.
He bends down to me, raising his hands to cup the sides of my neck as he settles his lips against mine.
I'm briefly aware that he smells really good and tastes like toothpaste, but that thought is quickly
overtaken by lust. We kiss feverishly for a couple of minutes, lips and tongues moving together eagerly,
before I twist out of his arms, stumbling backward a couple of steps.
"Jesus, Cullen. Take your plate and step away."
He does as I ask, sitting down at the kitchen counter with his food. Just before he takes his first bite, he
looks up at me with a smirk.
"For the record, Swan, I think not dressed at all is my favorite."
I can't help the chuckle that escapes my lips, and I pick up my mug of coffee, leaning back against the
stove as I take a drink. Although I won't say it out loud, I think not dressed at all is my favorite, too.
By the time I get in the press box the next day, Emmett and Riley are already sitting down in the front
row. Even though we arrived at the stadium together, I stopped in the ladies room on the way upstairs. I
set my bag down in the empty chair between them, and then notice the big plate of food in front of
Emmett. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Tematy