“That didn’t count,” she protested while I only shook my head, suddenly feeling lighter than I had in years.
“Prove it,” I said.
“Fine. Do it again.” Shelby sounded touchy, defensive, but I could see right through her raised chin and flushed cheeks. She was terrified.
“Nope. Too easy. You’re expecting it now. We’re going to have to do something more drastic.”
I turned from her, walking to the edge of the concrete court, trying to talk myself into what I was about to do.
Over the past few years, Shelby had morphed into a beautiful, vibrant creature. There was no way guys didn’t stop and stare when they saw her coming. But while her physical appearance had softened, she still had the abrasive instincts of a younger Shelby. Like part of her had grown up while the other stayed on a basketball court. It was the way she slugged shoulders and gave high fives and fist bumps like she was one of the guys in a locker room. She had a habit of putting herself in the friend zone before any guy could try his luck with her. Giving space for a guy to show her he liked her required her to have some confidence. Some experience. All things I planned on helping her with, but tonight, I needed to switch up my approach.
And first…I had to prove to her that she had a problem.
I gripped the hem of my shirt and turned around, pinning my eyes on hers. Then I watched in secret delight at the growing alarm on her face as I stripped the shirt completely off my body and tossed it on the grass. A lot of time had passed since we’d last hung out like this, not to mention the fact that I just promised myself I’d avoid the very thing I was about to do, but messing with her was different than tangling with her. And one thing was certain: messing with Shelby would always be one of my favorite things in this world.
“Now, it’s game time.”
8
SHELBY
“What are you doing?”I failed to keep the alarm from my voice. I couldn’t help it. My heart began spasming at the sight of him approaching the court—this time, shirtless. As in…Jake had no shirt on. I could only watch, mouth agape, as he made his way toward me. To make the situation worse, he then lifted an arm, his muscles doing their thing as he flipped his hat backward.
Whatever Jake had planned for me was going to be a problem.
Gracious. If he were anybody else coming toward me in that get-up, I’d probably call that sexy. Of course, that wasn’t something I could say about Jake. Myfriend, Jake. But by the looks of his tan, lined body, he was definitely a guy who had his shirt off a lot. He had been lean back in high school, though he’d always had muscles. But he had filled out substantially since then—and not in an unattractive way. My traitorous fingers itched for my camera right now.
Jake held his arms out, his eyes shining as he pretended confusion. “What?”
“You whipped that thing off pretty easily for a guy who acted too shy to do it earlier today.”
“I am too shy. This is about teaching you a lesson.”
“You’re not shy. Put your shirt back on, Nancy.”
“Nope.”
My stress levels began to rise.
“I’m not playing shirts and skins with you.”
His eyes widened appreciatively. “Why? You want to be skins? We can switch.”
“Jake,” I warned in a low voice.
He grinned, folding his bare arms across his chest. “Keep talking. You’re proving my point nicely.”
I opened my mouth to deny and protest, but nothing came out. It was difficult to express things when one's brain suddenly felt like an empty sheet of paper. It was like one of those old typewriters when they ran out of ink. You just press and press the key, and nothing prints on the paper. I was out of ink. He took another step forward.
A small bubble of nervous laughter came out of my mouth. “I’ll prove myself with you wearing a shirt. This isn’t…we can’t…just…go put on a shirt.”
“Are you nervous, Tuck?”
The punk’s voice was brimming with laughter. He was so close to me now, and it was scrambling every last ounce of my brain power. It wasn’t just that he was half naked, it was the knowing gleam in his eyes. It was the way he sauntered toward me.
It wasn’t veryfriend-like.
I countered his steps, moving backward until my back butted up against the pole of the basketball hoop. He stopped just before me, his body not touching mine, but the heat from his bare stomach seemed to jump ship and made me feel as though he were. Heart pounding, I held my hands up between us as though I was being arrested. Trying desperately not to touch him.