with each passing second. Panicked thoughts fly through my mind.
Did someone hit me on purpose?
Am I about to be made fun of for going out in public with even a shred of confidence?
I’m on my ass in the sand, my shoulder killing me from the pain, and all I’m thinking about is how mortified I am to be in public right now. Someone calls out an apology and I look up to see a guy with short brown hair running toward me. He’s wearing blue board shorts and no shirt, and all I can say is the tan looks really good on him.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, stopping in front of me. I realize now that he’s actually talking to me, not just running by on some other mission.
“It’s fine,” I say, scrambling to stand up in the sand. “No big deal.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I’m struggling to hold back tears. I bend and pick up the football, holding it out to the guy. He seems really familiar, but then again, all of the hot guys at Robert Cullen High School look alike. Just a bunch of muscled, tall, Greek gods walking around the place. “Here’s your ball.”
He takes it and drops it to the sand, his focus on me instead. “Are you sure you’re okay? Where did you get hit?”
I look at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Why on earth would any guy stare at me with that much concern? I mean, it’s not like he actually cares.
But weirdly, as he watches me with concern in his eyes, I’d almost think that maybe he does.
Chapter 11
“I’m so, so sorry,” I say, running a frantic hand through my hair. I nod toward Bryce, who’s standing twenty feet away, his back to us while he talks on the phone. “That jackass was supposed to catch the football, then he just walked off to answer his phone after I threw it.”
The girl glances at Bryce. It could be my imagination, but it seems like she grimaces when she sees him. Maybe she’s a victim of his incessant flirting. The idiot can’t let a single pretty girl walk by without hitting on her.
“It’s okay, really,” she says with a shrug. I get the feeling she wants to walk away and get as far from me as possible, but I have to make sure she’s okay.
“Where were you hit? I was looking for Bryce and then heard you cry out and realized I hit you. God, I’m so sorry.”
“Just um, my shoulder,” she says, reaching for her sleeve. She looks over and pushes the fabric aside, revealing the skin below her collar bone.
“Oh, shit,” I say, wincing in sympathy with her. Her skin is all red and scraped like road rash. It’s even bleeding in a few places.
Her eyes widen as she looks at the injury; I’m guessing she had no idea it was that bad.
“Please, let me help,” I say. “Come with me to my store and I’ll get some ice and bandages for you.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she says, glancing back toward the parking lot. “I was on my way home anyway.”
“It’s the least I can do,” I say, running a hand through my hair again. I’ve already done that, but I can’t help myself. I need something to do with my hands. This girl makes me nervous in the pit of my stomach, and it’s not just because I slammed her with a football. “It’d really help assuage my guilt from hurting you,” I say with a goofy smile that I hope convinces her to come back to the shop with me.
She regards me suspiciously. “What store?” she asks.
“The Flying Mermaid. It’s just right over there,” I say, pointing back toward the strip. “We have a first aid kit with this numbing pain spray,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows to show how enticing my offer is.
She laughs, and it makes her even more beautiful. “Okay, I guess some numbing spray would be nice.”
“Great,” I say, unable to hide my big ass grin.
I really am trying to be a nice human being here, and not a horn dog, but it doesn’t escape my notice that this girl also fits the first two requirements on my list.
Cool it, Josh. You hurt her and now you need to make up for it. Stop
Did someone hit me on purpose?
Am I about to be made fun of for going out in public with even a shred of confidence?
I’m on my ass in the sand, my shoulder killing me from the pain, and all I’m thinking about is how mortified I am to be in public right now. Someone calls out an apology and I look up to see a guy with short brown hair running toward me. He’s wearing blue board shorts and no shirt, and all I can say is the tan looks really good on him.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, stopping in front of me. I realize now that he’s actually talking to me, not just running by on some other mission.
“It’s fine,” I say, scrambling to stand up in the sand. “No big deal.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I’m struggling to hold back tears. I bend and pick up the football, holding it out to the guy. He seems really familiar, but then again, all of the hot guys at Robert Cullen High School look alike. Just a bunch of muscled, tall, Greek gods walking around the place. “Here’s your ball.”
He takes it and drops it to the sand, his focus on me instead. “Are you sure you’re okay? Where did you get hit?”
I look at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Why on earth would any guy stare at me with that much concern? I mean, it’s not like he actually cares.
But weirdly, as he watches me with concern in his eyes, I’d almost think that maybe he does.
Chapter 11
“I’m so, so sorry,” I say, running a frantic hand through my hair. I nod toward Bryce, who’s standing twenty feet away, his back to us while he talks on the phone. “That jackass was supposed to catch the football, then he just walked off to answer his phone after I threw it.”
The girl glances at Bryce. It could be my imagination, but it seems like she grimaces when she sees him. Maybe she’s a victim of his incessant flirting. The idiot can’t let a single pretty girl walk by without hitting on her.
“It’s okay, really,” she says with a shrug. I get the feeling she wants to walk away and get as far from me as possible, but I have to make sure she’s okay.
“Where were you hit? I was looking for Bryce and then heard you cry out and realized I hit you. God, I’m so sorry.”
“Just um, my shoulder,” she says, reaching for her sleeve. She looks over and pushes the fabric aside, revealing the skin below her collar bone.
“Oh, shit,” I say, wincing in sympathy with her. Her skin is all red and scraped like road rash. It’s even bleeding in a few places.
Her eyes widen as she looks at the injury; I’m guessing she had no idea it was that bad.
“Please, let me help,” I say. “Come with me to my store and I’ll get some ice and bandages for you.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she says, glancing back toward the parking lot. “I was on my way home anyway.”
“It’s the least I can do,” I say, running a hand through my hair again. I’ve already done that, but I can’t help myself. I need something to do with my hands. This girl makes me nervous in the pit of my stomach, and it’s not just because I slammed her with a football. “It’d really help assuage my guilt from hurting you,” I say with a goofy smile that I hope convinces her to come back to the shop with me.
She regards me suspiciously. “What store?” she asks.
“The Flying Mermaid. It’s just right over there,” I say, pointing back toward the strip. “We have a first aid kit with this numbing pain spray,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows to show how enticing my offer is.
She laughs, and it makes her even more beautiful. “Okay, I guess some numbing spray would be nice.”
“Great,” I say, unable to hide my big ass grin.
I really am trying to be a nice human being here, and not a horn dog, but it doesn’t escape my notice that this girl also fits the first two requirements on my list.
Cool it, Josh. You hurt her and now you need to make up for it. Stop
Similar Books
