“So,” he began, an amused look on his face as he peered into my eyes, “you don’t have a problem? I haven’t even tried to touch you yet.”
I was unable to remember a time when I’d been this discombobulated on a court. Trapped against the pole while a very attractive Jake Evans loomed over me wasn’t something I had ever dealt with before.
“I touch you all the time.”
“No. You punch my shoulder. You push. You slap. You’re kind of a bully, now that I think about it.”
I concentrated on breathing a steady, even breath. He was messing with me. Just like he used to. But even I had to admit, this was different than any game we’d ever played. But I could handle it.
Ihadto handle it.
“Your problem is, you put yourself right in the friend zone before a guy can ever make a move. Smacking the shoulder is something friends do,” he went on, obnoxiously comfortable in my space. “It can be flirty in some situations, but not every time. If you want to avoid the friend zone, you gotta try a different approach.”
He slowly drew his hands up to mine, still hanging in the air between us, and clasped my fingers, bringing them down slowly between us.
“Breathe, Tuck.”
A breath sputtered from my lips as I let him hold my hands. “I hate you right now.”
“Such a sweet talker.”
I swallowed and attempted to pull my hands away, only to have his grip grow firmer. “I get it now. Softer touches. I’ll try not to hit you as much.”
He laughed, my favorite of his laughs. It was warm and husky, with a low tone that never failed to make me smile,especially when it was me who brought out that reaction. I had always loved that laugh. But I wasn’t sure why the sound of it was now igniting sparks down my spine.
“So do it, then.”
I brought my eyes up to his warily. “Do what? Hit you?”
“Touch me.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I forced my face to remain passive. “And then you’ll go away?”
He grinned. “Unless it’s good, then maybe I’ll come closer.”
I shifted my stance in an attempt to give us space.
He leaned forward to whisper in my ear, his hands settling on my shoulders. “Tuck. Relax. I’m just flirting with you. We’re practicing.”
He leaned down and put his head in my space while I told myself not to flinch. I could do this. He had just taken me off guard.
“I’m not coming on to you,” he said, squeezing my shoulders. “I’m literally handing over my body for science right now. It’s all pretend. I’m the safest person you can try this stuff out on. I no longer have a heart.”
If I skipped over the part about his no longer having a heart, the rest of his words did have a calming effect on me. When I first approached him with this idea, I imagined us going on a walk where he would try to grab my hand or something. Fully clothed, with me understanding exactly what he was going to do. If this was his first lesson, I was terrified to imagine what came next.
But he was right. I had asked for this. After twenty-four hours of uncomfortable silence, followed by twenty minutes of laughing hysterically, we did eventually get over the braces mishap of high school. I could handle a little playful touching. It didn’t matter that this Jake felt vastly different than the old Jake. I could do this.
“Now pretend like I just said something sweet,” he said, his eyes shining merrily.
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would in your dreams.” I glowered at him, but he only smiled and added, “Now put your hand on my cheek.”
I placed my hand where he asked, perhaps a smidge rougher than I would with any sort of lover.
“You did it ag— I said no more slapping.” Jake’s voice sounded warm, which was in direct contrast to his words.
“I’m sorry. Old habits.”