Home > Books > Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love #1)(68)

Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love #1)(68)

Author:Ilsa Madden-Mills

I shake my head. “I need them on the field. We’re ranked two, and Huddersfield is one. It’s down to the wire.”

Skeeter nods. “True that, Andrew. We’ve got to tighten our game.”

“The analysts are saying Huddersfield has the best defense,” Andrew replies.

“And we have the top offense,” I counter.

He lets it drop, then pulls a small wrapped box out of his satchel. “Hey, Nova. I’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. My gift. Congrats on becoming a member of the staff.”

Nova unwraps the box and pulls out a maroon coffee mug with BBHS on it. She stares at it with a frown, blinks, and then gives him a blinding smile. “Wow. Thank you! I love it.”

I take my hat off and run a hand through my hair, feeling twitchy. I glance over, and Nova’s eyes are on me, narrowed. She glances at Skeeter, then motions her head to the door. She’s trying to tell me something . . . I lift my shoulders. What?

She rolls her eyes at my lack of understanding, then murmurs, “You ready to head to the field house, darling?”

There’s still fifteen minutes left in lunch, but I nod and pack up my things. Andrew watches us as we toss our trash, then head out the door.

As soon as we’re out in the hall, I glance at her. “What’s up?”

“Let’s get to the storage closet.”

Chapter 15

NOVA

He opens the door to the closet, the big one from the first day, and we slip inside. Our bodies brush against each other in the dark as I fumble on the wall for the light switch. It clicks on.

He leans on the door. “What’s going on?”

I reach up and take his cap off.

“I’m running out of hats, babe.”

I huff. “Do you seriously call your girlfriends babe?”

He laughs, a full, deep sound. “No.”

“What do you call them?”

His eyes brush over me. “For you? Princess. What would you call me if it was real?”

“Beast—but only when we’re alone.”

“Why?”

I chew my bottom lip. Might as well say it . . . “Because you fuck like an animal.”

There’s nothing but silence; then a long shuddering breath comes from him. “Nova . . . the things you say . . .”

I glance away. I should be embarrassed to be so blunt, but it’s true; he devoured me that night, and when it comes to him, I have zero inhibitions. My head tells me to keep the walls up around us, but the other side of me—my stupid, weak heart—clamors to tell him things. You know how it is when you’ve gone through a friend drought, and you get a new one, and all signs point to a wonderful comradery, and you want them to know your secrets? Yeah. It’s like that with him. “I have the types of sex categorized.”

“And they are . . . ,” he says softly.

I shiver, aware of the tension between us. It’s always present—in the staff lounge, in the field house. Here. We’re two people who know how good the sex was between us, yet we’re pretending it never happened . . .

“Nova?”

I hold his gaze. “There’s the holy-shit-I-can’t-believe-he-put-that-there sex. There’s makeup sex, which can be slow or fast. Next is sweet I’m-so-in-love-with-you sex. There’s lazy I’m-so-tired-from-work-I-can-barely-have-sex-but-let’s-knock-one-out. There’s act-like-a-crazy-person sex, where you break the bed, knock lamps over, maybe roll around on the ground. There’s sad-goodbye I’m-leaving-you sex—not a fan of that one. There’s the anal-beads-and-whips, which can also be combined with holy-shit sex. Literally. There’s you-just-lay-there-and-let-me-do-all-the-work sex. Then there’s vicious I-can’t-get-enough-of-you sex. Beast mode from start to finish. You.”

His hand touches my shoulder, his fingers stroking my skin. “Nova—”

A bell rings, making us both start. He pulls back, and I push out a laugh.

“Anyway, moving on from that word vomit.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Ronan . . . you have lice.”

He flinches. “What the . . . no fucking way.”

I nudge my head at his cap in my hands. “There’s a little critter in your hat. He’s about the size of a seed, tan, and very fast. Here, look.”

“Those things are in my hair?” he calls as he scratches his scalp.

“I thought I saw something crawling in your hair in the lounge, and that’s why I wanted to leave and get you away from Skeeter. He’s going to freak. He’s going to hose down your office, the entire field house.”

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