I want to be me. Susanna, who’s great at…
What?
“Do you think I’m interesting?”
I tear my attention away from Susanna’s crappy not-4K television screen to focus on her. “What did you just say?”
“I asked if you thought I was interesting.” She tilts her head, contemplating me. “Or do you find me boring?”
“You are the least boring person I know.” I give her foot, which is propped on a throw pillow in my lap, a firm squeeze. We’re extra careful around my knee, around her ribs and broken arm, because we want to keep touching each other.
And I can’t stop touching her. It’s like I’m addicted.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you want to get into my pants.”
“Well, there is that, but that sort of action isn’t going down for a few days.” No matter how bad I want it to, my girl isn’t ready. My knee can’t handle much, but I can lie on a mattress and just let her ride me.
A broken arm and healing ribs won’t let that happen.
“I find you very interesting,” she says, holding up her hand, her index finger pointing right at me. “One, you’re American.” She’s ticking off all of my so-called interesting traits with her fingers. “Two, you’re a football player for the NFL. Three, you came from a single mother, and look at you now. Four, you could have all the fame you want, but you’re not interested in any of that.”
“I am nothing special. I happen to be good at football. That’s it,” I say.
“Five, you’re incredibly modest.” She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re unreal, Cannon Whittaker. Oh, and six, you have the best name for a football player ever.”
“You’re going to make me blush,” I tease and she laughs.
We’re cuddled up on her tiny couch, legs carefully draped over mine, me sprawled as best I can despite the knee brace and the miniature size of her furniture. It’s late in the afternoon, I’m fed, I turned off my phone and it’s raining outside.
I wouldn’t mind spending the next few days just like this.
“I don’t think you’re boring,” I tell her, breaking the silence. “It seems you’ve lived a pretty full life, and you’re only twenty-three.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “I hate that I’m only twenty-three. It sounds so young, though everyone considers me an adult, which I am, so that makes sense. But I wish I were twenty-five. That’s a good age. A respectable age. Not a wayward teen, but someone older. Responsible.”
“You’re very responsible, Susanna. Despite what you say.” Her brain and the way she thinks is fascinating to me. “Don’t rush yourself. Enjoy each year you’re given,” I tell her, sounding like an old man trying to offer up some wisdom. I’m only a couple years older than her, but sometimes she just talks so young.
“Okay, wise one,” she teases, nudging my lap with her toes.
I grip them in my hand, tickling the backs of them and making her wiggle. “Better watch where you put that foot.”
“Why, are you going to strip me naked and check if I’m wet?” she asks hopefully.
“Lady Susanna Sumner, did you just say something about being wet?” Damn, we can’t talk about this kind of stuff. Not tonight, not for the next few days. I’ll get too riled up and then can’t do anything about it.
“I did.” She bites her lip, the look incredibly sexy. I’ve noticed that her hair is even more curly than usual, and I figure my earlier suspicions are true. She straightens the shit out of her hair to make it sleek, but I like her curly look too. “Am I going to get in trouble?”
“You wish,” I tell her, making her laugh. “We can’t mess around like that, Sus. No matter how bad I want to, I’m not going to do it. I might hurt you. Or I might hurt myself.”
She sighs. “You are such a gentleman.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“When I want you to ravish me, yet you resist like a noble duke, then it is a bad thing.” When I send her a questioning look, she shrugs. “I’ve read too many historical romances over the years.”
“You read romances?” I’m surprised. I figured she’d be the type to read classic novels like the shit they tried to force on us in high school.
“I do, but I haven’t in a while. Guess I’m too busy living my own romance,” she says with a tiny smile.