Page 58 of Play For Me

I look up at him, smirking. “What’s this about you being a ladies’ man? I’m gonna need details.”

He rolls his eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, Jay exaggerates.”

“It wasn’t all an exaggeration. I saw the way you were blushing.”

“I was not blushing,” he splutters.

“Dude. You totally were.” I give his side a gentle nudge with my elbow. “Come on, spill. How many hearts have you broken on this campus?”

“Zero,” he says flatly. Then he looks down at me. “And that’s not an exaggeration.”

“I highly doubt that. Judging solely by the reaction of my soccer teammates, girls take one look at you and start pining.”

Surprise crosses his face before his expression turns pleased. “Is that what happened with you?” he asks, voice noticeably lower than it’s been all night. There’s a warm, raspy quality to it that makes me fight off a shiver, despite the warmth of the evening.

“What do you mean?” I squeak out, trying to regain the thread of our conversation.

His eyes twinkle down at me. “Did you take one look at me and start to pine?”

Oh my God, Solomon Barnes is teasing me. Or is he flirting? I feel like I might throw up. I also feel like running a few laps around this patio the way my brother’s dog, George, does when he gets the zoomies.

Anyway, this is a dangerous conversation and I’m the stupid one who started it. Why did I have to tease him about Jay’s ladies’ man comment? Hell, why did I have to invite him in the first place? My feelings toward him are obviously far from professional, or even friendly, at this point.

“Of course not,” I try to scoff. “I don’t pine over boys.”

He grins, his eyes moving over my face. “I can see that about you. If one of us is a heartbreaker, my money would be on you.”

This time, I manage the scoff no problem. “I’m not a heartbreaker. Ball breaker on the other hand…”

He tilts his head back and laughs, the rich sound spreading warmth right down to my toes. He looks so beautiful standing outside in the mostly dark night, the multitude of Christmaslights Vega insisted on stringing up out here reflecting in the shine of his hair.

Then he’s not laughing anymore. He’s looking right at me, expression intense, eyes flashing with something I’m too afraid to name. And so, before I can think about how monumentally stupid this is, I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him.

Ikisshim. Just like that, no warning, no build-up. My hand is on the back of his neck, pulling him down towards me, and my lips are pressing against his and?—

He isn’t kissing me back. He’s standing there, frozen, body tense, like he has no idea what to do to get himself out of this mortifying situation I’ve inexplicably put us both into.

I release him like he’s on fire and take a step back. I cannot believe I just did that. I can’t even blame being drunk because I’ve only had a couple beers all night and?—

“Cecelia.” His voice is a soft whisper in the dim light and I suddenly feel like crying. Why am I so stupid? I can’t look at him because if I look at him, I will definitely cry, and then he’ll know how completely head-over-heels I am for him. I bite back a bitter laugh—as if kissing him out of nowhere didn’t already tell him that.

“Cecelia,” he says again, more insistently this time, and then his fingers are threading through mine and I’m so shocked at the contact that I look up at him.

I can’t read his expression in the dim light. Or maybe he doesn’t have an expression because he’s just completely shut down on me, the way he had that night at the party when Vega’s punch shower made him so overstimulated he couldn’t function. Oh, God, did I do the same thing? Did I make him so uncomfortable that?—

Suddenly, his arms are around me and he’s pulling me close and then his lips are on mine again, but this time he is definitelynotfrozen. One of his hands cradles the back of my head,holding me like I’m something precious, while the other presses into my back to pull me somehow even closer to his big warm chest and this feelssogood.

I’ve never been kissed like this before. I’ve never loved the feel of someone’s arms around me this much, never felt this on fire by someone’s touch. I remember all the times I’ve pretended to not be drooling over his chest and arms and now I’minthose arms, pressed against that chest.

I never want this to stop.

I know that it’s a bad idea. I know there’s a reason I was trying to keep my distance from him, that we’re supposed to be professional, that my focus needs to be on soccer.

I know all those things, but I just can’t make myself care.

When Solomon makes a hungry little sound deep in his chest and pulls me even closer, all I can think is one thing—there’s no way this man hasn’t broken the hearts of every girl lucky enough to be in my shoes.

And he’s probably going to break mine, too.