Love and Fame Games (Book 1)

02

"You play the video game versions of those things," I corrected, dismissing his claim with a wave of my hand. "It's not the same as actual sports."

"Running's hardly an actual sport," he said.

Oh no, he didn't. My eyes widened and I let out a long, high-pitched gasp. "How dare you?"

The look on Seth's face let me pinpoint the exact moment he realized he had said the wrong thing. I was all-too familiar with that look. He flustered and backtracked immediately, making wild gestures with his hands. "You know what I mean—it doesn't have all those crazy rules like other sports. That's why I like it."

One of my eyebrows lifted; I wasn't convinced. "Since when?"

"Since I need to look good for the ladies, now that it's beach season," he said, smirking. I made a face and the smirk on his widened into a full-on grin. "I'm kidding. I don't need any help there."

He wasn't wrong; there had been no shortage of girls hovering around him. Not so many that he'd be considered a dog, but a normal number, spread out over the years like any normal, likable guy who had his ways. I didn't say so out loud because he already looked so smug and I did not want to encourage him.

I eyed him up and down, my expression blank, snorted, and gave him a sarcastic double thumbs-up. "Yeah, thank God for the dad-bod trend, right? Seems to really be working out for you."

Seth gaped at me, which made it that much harder to keep a straight face. "Dad-bod?" he asked in a hushed tone, rapidly blinking several times and then saying the word again, more outraged. "Dad-bod?"

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Hearing Seth echo that ridiculous term, so indignantly, with that confused expression on his face, was freaking hilarious. I wasn't even expecting him to know what that was, but I guess he did because he swiftly got on his feet, drew up his shirt and showed me a perfect example of what it wasn't.

"You call this a dad-bod?" His tone was challenging and his warm brown eyes locked with my pale green ones before traveling downward. As a reflex, I followed his gaze and was treated to the sight of a trim, well-defined stomach.

I couldn't be sure how long I had stared and I might have swallowed a little too loudly at one point but eventually I managed to snap out of it. I looked away and felt the sudden need to sit down, so I did, on the ground; it was still hot from the sun, but had cooled down enough to not cause discomfort. Seth sat back down beside me and I turned to him once I had calmed down.

"You know, the beach isn't such a bad idea; you're so pale," I said, acting like I hadn't just been perving on this boy. He said nothing, so I continued to bait him. "Like, positively ghostly."

"Seriously, I could be your new running buddy," he said, ignoring my previous remark. And then, obviously thrilled by the idea, he started speaking faster. "Come on, I'll race you to the park. Don't be surprised if I beat you."

I scoffed, but that wasn't as far-fetched as I made it seem. It was possible Seth could make good on that claim. He wasn't lacking in physical ability. He used to do odd jobs, usually yard work, around the neighborhood. On a good day, he was a ball of boundless, inexhaustible energy. And he was strong. And, he had the body to show for it.

He didn't always look like that, though. He had been more than a little chubby all throughout our childhood, and I still teased him about once in a while—call it nostalgia on my part. I wasn't sure when or how that happened and would sometimes actually forget that it did. More than once, in recent years, I had caught myself staring at him, wondering two things: One, who was this hottie, standing in front of me? And two, when is Seth—that fatty—gonna come and save me from making a fool of myself in front of this cutie-pie?