But, I was walking from the main lounge, after dinner when he fell in step beside me, and for some reason no one clued Reese Forster in on how bad of an idea he was to my senses.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier,” he said.

I almost faltered in my stride, but caught myself and kept going. I needed to deal with this problem before I was put in a mental clinic.

“Tell me something gross about yourself.”

“Why?”

We were rounding one of the outdoor courts. A couple of the other players were there, shooting hoops.

I figured, why not. “Because gross helps balance things out. I need balancing out. I’m starting to like you.”

He grabbed my arm, jerking me to a stop.

His head inclined toward me. His eyes keen. “Say again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on. You’re a pro ball player. Women throwing themselves at you is not new. Why are you surprised by me?”

“It’s not that.” He gripped the back of his neck. “As a line, that was almost lame compared to some I’ve heard.” An easy grin fell back in place and he let go of his neck, nodding to me. “You can do better.”

This guy.

I—no words.

Then I blinked a few times, staring at him because he was right. I could do better, and that sort of thing wouldn’t even phase him.

“Okay. Fine.” I could do this.

This was weird.

I was still going with it. “Is your dick cold? Because I’ve got a warmer for it.”

He didn’t react, his face expressionless, then his smirk grew. “That’s it? We’re not at the Roxbury. Do better.” His smirk was growing cocky.

Jesus. He did not realize the stalker he was fanning here.

Some of the bouncing from the court lessened. The guys were starting to watch us. One guy broke from their group, heading over. I saw it from the corner of my eye.

I coughed. “I don’t know. How do girls usually hit on you?”

He shrugged. “Most just usually send me a nude in my messages. Or you know, practically being naked and just grabbing me.”

“That works?”

His smirk was almost rakish now. “If I have an itch and she’s got the warmer for my dick.”

That was so crude. My warmer got hotter.

“Yeah. Well. I’m trying to warn you away from me.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t scare me. Besides, I thought you were funny.” He relaxed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Reese,” Juan called out, halfway to us. He shot out a ball. It bounced once and Reese caught it without looking away from me.

“You think I’m less funny now that I’m being honest?”

He flexed his hands around the ball. “Maybe I’m missing the questions?”

Juan stopped just shy of joining our group and conversation. He was waiting.