Playing for More (Love on the Court - Book #1)

5. Half Naked Truths

ADDISON

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Yup, no big deal.

Heading to Carter's room after that little ping pong showdown.

Fine - it's all just fine. Everything is fine.

I lick my lips nervously as I follow him, my eyes trailing down his back. I can't help but notice the way his muscles move with each step. Focus, Addison, focus on something else.

Like the fact that Carter Harris was strangely nice to me.

We both knew the odds of me missing the next shot were pretty damn high, and yet, he lost... deliberately. I saw it happen. He made himself lose so I wouldn't have to bare it all in front of everyone. What on earth am I supposed to make of that?

Was Jenna right?

Did I misjudge Carter when I decided he wasn't worth my time?

He's a total flirt and has his wild moments, but maybe, just maybe, he's not all bad. And, uh, speaking of not all bad, turns out he's packing more than I thought. So, those rumors about him being a playboy? Well, they might have a nugget of truth.

Maybe - and I'm saying maybe - I get why the girls fall for him.

Not me. Other girls. And boy, oh boy, I can't wait to get to his room to put some pants on.

Walking up the stairs in my black grandma panties? Not exactly a life goal I'd ever set.

After what feels like an eternity, Carter stops in front of a door and holds it open, a suspiciously gentlemanly gesture. "After you."

Yeah, sure, let me walk in there half-naked with a half-naked, cocky basketball player. Nothing to see here, folks.

I could be at home, binge-watching sitcoms in my pajamas, but no, here I am, about to have a conversation with a guy who's one pair of boxers away from total nudity. A total nudity I've already witnessed.

Great life choices, Addison. Great life choices.

If I land a journalism gig, I've got a future in the gossip column for sure. If not, I can use my second set of skill to erase my existence from the web.

I gulp nervously, summoning the courage to step into Carter's room. What I discover inside catches me off guard—it's surprisingly...normal. I'm not sure what I was anticipating—maybe a secret sex dungeon? Handcuffs dangling provocatively from the bed, perhaps?

Instead, I find myself standing in a space that could easily belong to any regular person. The room is impeccably tidy, a few posters tastefully adorning the walls, and the bed neatly made.. Oh my, is Carter Harris secretly a neat freak?

I clutch my arm, my fingers digging into my skin as I eye the bed. It might be clean and made, but... I definitely don't want to sit on that.

Not in my undies, anyway.

Alright.

In the midst of this whole insane situation, my brain takes a momentary vacation. Carter, being his usual self, casually tosses his stuff on the bed. It's like a glaring red flag waving at me, screaming, Abort mission! Get back into your damn pants!

I mean, seriously, who finds themselves in these kinds of conversations while practically half-naked? Me, that's who.

I mentally slap myself. What the hell was I thinking?

My heart is still pounding, reliving that impromptu almost-striptease. At this rate, I'll be walking around with 'jersey chaser' scribbled across my forehead in bold red marker. Come on, get it together, what's gotten into me?