Summer Fling - Players of Marycliff University, Book 1

Chapter 1

"Sweetheart, I don't think you're going to be able to do much to help your shirt." His voice was low and rumbly, a slight drawl accenting his words. He had leaned forward to talk to her, and she could feel his breath moving the tiny hairs that had escaped from her ponytail on the back of her neck.

"Yes, I realize that." She spit the words through clenched teeth. "But the soda spilled all over me. I'd like to at least get the stickiness off my skin before figuring out how to get home." When she turned to look at him, his face was only inches away from her own.

Before she could react to his closeness, he leaned back and snagged a roll of paper towels off the counter. The move caused his shirt to lift, revealing a strip of tanned skin. Her eyes snapped back up to his face as he handed her the paper towels, noticing that amusement still glinted in his dark eyes.

Abby ripped off two or three paper towels, got them wet, and started mopping up the worst of the mess on her arms and legs. She had to get more paper towels when she got to her sandals. After trying and failing to wipe her sandals out, she gave up and just stuck them under the running water. They were soaking wet, but at least they were clean.

It was bad enough that her new top was now a mess, with a brown stain all over it from her drink. She hoped it'd come out in the wash, but she really wasn't sure. She also hoped her shoes weren't ruined. She'd just gotten them that afternoon—cute flats with silver straps that crisscrossed their way over the top of her foot to where they secured around her ankle. They weren't that impressive, but Abby liked them.

And Charlie Chuckles was still standing next to her watching her attempts to de-soda-ify her shoes. He might have a nice ass, and okay, nice arms, but he didn't have very nice manners. She'd think he had a nice smile too, if he wasn't using it to embarrass her.

"Enjoying the show?" Abby straightened up to get more paper towels.

"Very much." He didn't even bother to hide his smile now. Abby huffed in annoyance and turned back to her sandals, the corners of her mouth twitching in response. She was trying to hold onto her irritation, but it was difficult when he kept grinning at her like that.

"I'm Lance." Chuckles stuck out his hand when she was done with her sandals. Glancing at his face and then to his hand, she placed her hand in his and gave it a quick, firm shake.

"Hi." Abby dropped his hand right away, ignoring his firm grip and the slight callouses on his palm. She turned away from him, trying to find the best way through the crowd so she could leave.

"Usually when someone introduces himself, it's polite to give your name in return."

She didn't spare him more than a glance, still scanning for an opening to make her escape. "When someone's covered in soda, it's polite not to stare at their see through shirt and laugh at them while they clean their shoes."

"Touché."

Spotting a hole, Abby started to go, but stopped when he put his hand on her shoulder. "Do you need a ride or something?"

She turned back to face him. "What?" He was close beside her, his head bent toward hers so he could talk next to her ear.

"Earlier you said you'd need to find your way home. How did you get here?" His hand was still on her shoulder, heavy and warm, holding her in place.

"I came with a friend. She drove, but judging by the last time I saw her I don't think she'll be driving home. I have no idea where she is now, but I'm ready to leave." She made a gesture to her shirt.

"Let me give you a ride."

"I don't even know you." She shrugged off his hand, disconcerted by his continued touch and proximity. She turned toward the crowd again. The gap that she'd intended to use was gone, taken up by a new cluster of drunk people.