Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
"I'm surprised you didn't have some cliche football-playing boyfriend."
Laurie looks offended. "Uh, no! I took cheerleading so seriously. You don't win awards by dating football players. You win awards by practicing."
She sounds so prim and proper, and I laugh. "So you're saying you didn't date?"
She looks away. "I didn't have time for boys, okay? Plus, my dad ditching my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant didn’t exactly make me in any hurry to find love.”
I cringe. Fuck. I'm going to hell. There's no doubt about that, but I can't stop myself from pushing forward, getting closer, wanting to know more about her. "None of them were good enough for you?"
She slaps her hands on the bed, annoyed. "That wasn't it! I did well at school, and I dedicated my free time to cheer. That's all." Relaxing once more, she looks me over from head to toe, and I swear I can feel her eyes like a physical touch. "You're...you know, in good shape. I bet you played a sport seriously, too."
My obsession with her is broken for a beat, and a familiar feeling of awkwardness creeps in. "Ah, no. Not really."
"Come on." Laurie is like a bloodhound on a scent. She knows I’m hiding something, and she isn't going to let me get away with it. "Spill it."
I consider just leaving the room, but something about the way she's looking at me makes me feel ... lighter. It's my desire to see her smile that has me telling her, "I was actually in choir."
She blinks, eyes wide. "Oh!"
"Yeah." I scrub a hand down my face. "I was a baritone, and I took it seriously."
"Why did you stop?"
I'm already fighting back a grin. "I was just too talented. It wasn't fair to the other kids."
Her lips part and then she bursts into laughter, throwing herself back on her bed. I join in, surprised at how nice it feels to just laugh with her.
She sits up after a moment, looking more relaxed than I've seen her since she got here. "Thanks for sharing with me."
And there it is again—that crackle of heat between us that makes me want to kiss her. Makes me want to pull her against me and feel her body pressed to mine. But I can't, so instead I say, "It really was a tragedy, how wasted I was."
"I just don't know if I believe you. How about you sing me something?"
I shake my head. "Hell, no. Unless...you do something for me first."
Laurie's expression wavers between amused and hesitant, but she takes the bait. "Okay, sure."
"All right, Cartwright," I say, leaning against the edge of her desk with my arms crossed. "If you were such a hotshot cheerleader, let’s see it. Show me what you’ve got.”
Laurie arches one perfectly shaped brow. “You think I won’t?”
I smirk, trying to keep my cool. “I know you won’t. No way you’ll risk embarrassing yourself like that.”
She narrows her eyes at me, the glint of determination in them unmistakable. “You’re on, Lawson.”
Before I can backpedal or reconsider, Laurie steps into the middle of the room. With an exaggerated stretch, she raises her arms above her head. Then, to my absolute shock, she launches into a cheer with flawless precision.
“Two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar! All for the team, stand up and holler!”
She claps, spins, and finishes with a toe touch that leaves me speechless. The movement is fluid, confident, and completely unexpected, and the matching crop top and bike shorts she's wearing show me all sorts of delicious skin.
When she lands, her hair falls around her shoulders like a golden halo, her cheeks flushed from the exertion. I blink, trying not to let my jaw drop. Hot as hell doesn’t even cover it. I'm so hard I could fuck through steel, and I lean forward in an attempt to hide it.
Laurie grins, clearly reveling in my stunned silence. “What’s the matter, Adam? Cat got your tongue?”
I recover quickly. “Not bad. A little rusty, but not bad.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Fair is fair, though. Your turn, Mister choir boy.”
Damn. I walked right into that one.
“Fine,” I say, straightening up. “But don’t blame me if this blows your mind.”
Laurie perches on the edge of her bed, crossing her arms and watching. I rake a hand through my hair and rack my brain for something, anything, I can still remember. Finally, it comes to me. Clearing my throat, I launch into a shaky rendition of “Seasons of Love” from Rent.
Laurie’s face immediately splits into a grin, and by the second line, she’s laughing so hard she’s clutching her sides. I ham it up even more, throwing in dramatic gestures and a heartfelt vibrato until she’s gasping for air.
“You’re terrible!” she manages between giggles.
I stop mid-verse, pretending to be offended. “Terrible? That was Broadway-worthy!"