“Lo que tu quieras hermosa.”

Her eyes widen. “You speak Spanish?”

Damn. I haven’t pulled out the Spanish on her? In all my attempts to get her to go out with me, I’d forgotten Blair’s advice that tossing out my ability to speak Spanish was the ultimate panty dropper. Admittedly it doesn’t usually come to that. My handsome mug and the body that comes with the workouts and practices of being a college athlete do practically all the work for me.

“My parents wanted us to be able to communicate with our extended family in Mexico.”

She shifts so she’s sitting fully on the bed. “Did your parents grow up here or in Mexico?”

“Both. My father’s family moved here when he was a baby. My mother came over with her sister after high school.”

Whatever hesitation and block she’d been throwing up is down as she leans forward and asks the next question. “How’d they meet?”

I shake my head and click my tongue against the roof of my mouth twice. “Oh no, you’ve used up your seven questions. It’s my turn.”

She holds her hand out for the bottle.

I pass it over, watching mesmerized as she takes another small drink and hands it back. “I’m ready. Shoot.”

“Admit you’re attracted to me.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Fine. Are you attracted to me?”

Her face pinks. If I’d been doubting it, which I haven’t, I’d be certain now. Katrina is attracted to me, but I need to hear her say it. I need her to admit it to herself. She rolls her eyes. “You know you’re hot, you don’t need me to pad your ego.”

“That’s not the same thing. I asked if you were attracted to me?”

She throws her hands up, exasperation bouncing off her. “Of course, I am. I’m pretty sure the entire female population is attracted to you.” More eye rolling.

I take a drink to hide the cocky grin that is threatening to spread across my face. The burn of the alcohol and the excitement of her admission has me lightheaded.

“Final question.”

“I’m pretty sure you still have at least two left.”

That cocky grin I was trying to hide? Yep, no hiding it now. It pulls across my face and, thank you, Jesus, this night is about to get good. Good and dirty. “I only need one.”

She arches a brow, looking at me suspiciously.

Leaning forward, I hear the intake of breath as my thumb moves to the corner of her mouth and I trace her full, bottom lip before moving up to the center of her perfect cupid’s bow. She’s coated them in a glossy, light pink, and I want to taste it and smear it in equal measures. She trembles under my touch and it’s such an honest reaction that my pulse quickens.

I drop my hand from her face to neck and thread it through her hair, watching the path and admiring the goosebumps that rise on her ivory skin. “Can I kiss you?”