“Blair, what do you think of this shirt?”

She looks to each of the guys, who chuckle, before answering. “Umm. It’s fine.”

“Fuck. I should change, right?”

Their continued laughter is the only response. Nathan tosses me a basketball. He doesn’t say anything, but I read the “chill the fuck out” written on his face.

But I can’t. Katrina knocked me off my game.

I palm the ball for comfort and look back to Blair. “Well?”

She sits forward and gives me a slow once-over. “Turn.”

“Excuse me?”

She motions with her finger for me to spin. Fuck me.

Not letting go of the basketball, I turn with arms held out.

Wes’ voice is amused when he walks in and asks, “What the hell is going on in here? A fashion show?”

I toss the ball at his head and then regret it immediately because now I’m just a dude standing in the middle of the room twirling.

“Blair is helping me pick a shirt for tonight.”

“Why the obsession over attire tonight?” he asks as he takes a seat next to Blair.

“He struck out getting a number this afternoon and is now all bent out of shape.” I shoot Nathan a glare that reminds him I’ve got dirt on him. It’s too late though. My rejection is out there.

“Aww, you poor, poor schmuck,” Wes says, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“That isn’t what this is about. It was one girl. One girl.” I jab my finger in the air for emphasis. “Fuck you all.” I don’t have enough fingers to count their rejections. I look down at my shirt and pants and then decide to roll the sleeves. It’s nice out. “So, this one is good?”

Blair bobs her head enthusiastically this time. “You look hot. Black is a good color for you. It gives you the whole dark and mysterious thing with your skin tone and dark hair.”

“Easy, now.” Wes sounds jealous and that makes me happier than I’ve been all afternoon.

I shoot her a wink. “Muchas gracias, linda.”

“Yeah, definitely do that.” Her eyes light up.

“Do what?”

“Talk in Spanish. Not all the time. . . but drop it in casually. Accents are sexy.”

Flash her a smile in appreciation for the tidbit. She’s not the first girl to tell me that, but I guess I’d sort of forgotten. Been using my jock and overall God’s-gift-to-women status to pick up chicks and now I’ve got no game when it counts.

Blair and Wes make plans to see a local baseball game later tonight, which makes me question his idea of romance but then she looks at him all heart eyes so what the hell do I know? She says her goodbyes to the group, off to do some studying or something else super boring. I wait until the door is closed behind her before taking an opportunity to point the jabs at someone else.

“Soo. . .” I ask innocently. “You and Blair. . . things getting serious?”