Page 8 of The Fake Out

“Well, may he rest in peace.”

Ali gave me the stink eye. “I don’t think you fully understand the significance of Chris Sterns. Mae, he’s dead sexy.”

With a snort, I cut off a piece of meatloaf. “I thought you were giving up men.”

“Pu-lease. He is not a mere mortal. He is a god. I’m not talking about normal sexy. I’m talking People’s Sexiest Man sexy. On top of that, he’s like, a good guy. Donates to charity, visits kids in the hospital, helps out animals.” Leaning closer, she dropped her voice slightly. “There’s this one picture of him online where he is shirtless and he’s holding a pu—”

“Puppy. I’m holding a puppy,” a voice said behind us.

Ali jumped and whipped around. Her jaw moved up and down before she finally got words out. “Holy crap. It’s him. It’s you. Y-you’re Chris Sterns.”

“One and the same,” he said, a trace of humor in his words.

Something about the voice hit me strangely, like I’d heard it before. Which was ridiculous because I’m certain I would have remembered meeting a professional football player. I turned slowly and looked up, way up, past long jean-clad legs and a gray t-shirt with a faded logo of some sort on it. All the way up until I discovered a scruff-covered chin and the baseball cap pulled low to cover what I knew were eyes the color of warm hon—

“You.”

He rocked back on his heels and pushed his hat back, a small smile on his lips. “Nice shirt.”

This one read Librarians Do It Better. I liked librarian t-shirts. Everyone had a weakness; this one was mine.

“Stop looking at my shirt,” I snapped.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, per se. Except his eyes… twinkled.

I frowned. They did not twinkle. They were not honey-colored. They were normal brown eyes just like a…

“You have cow eyes,” I blurted out. Just as quickly, I slammed my mouth shut so hard my back teeth ached with it. What was wrong with me? I did not blurt things. I was calm, cool, and collected. Ali was right. She was the one who got us into trouble; I was the one who rescued us.

“Whoa,” Ali murmured. “Where did that come from?”

Chris, God of Football, pushed his cap back to reveal said eyes more fully, a glint of mischief shining. “Well, now, cows are pretty special animals.”

My back straightened, and despite what I’m sure were the flaming red cheeks only a natural redhead could produce, I tried to appear dignified. “Is that so?”

“Sure. You know they sleep over half the day, even while standing up, and they have a real good sense of smell.” He tapped his nose. “Plus, cows never like being alone. They like to have a friend to hang out with.”

“That’s a lot of facts about cows,” I said.

“Boy Scout. I got my Bovine Knowledge badge.”

“There is not a cow badge.”

“Sure is.” He smiled, big and warm with a flash of white teeth, a smile that sent a tingle of awareness down my spine.

I scowled, starting to understand why Ali had been singing his praises.

“Also, a Goat Call badge, a Famous Barns of America badge, and a Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness badge.”

Ali slugged me in the shoulder. “I thought you said you didn’t know who he was.”

“He was sleeping in my library yesterday.”

Ali laughed, having recovered from her initial shock. “Dude, I bet you got in trouuuble.”

He held out his hands, grinning. A dimple flashed. I hadn’t noticed the dimple. It was disturbingly distracting. “Hey now, I was resting my eyes.”

With a harrumph, I crossed my arms and was about to reply when yet another voice interrupted me.