Page 30 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

Sloane:

I knew it. My God, is that an eight-pack? And all your tattoos? I hate how hot you are.

I’m not unfamiliar with female attention, but something about it from Sloane does something to my entire body.

Me:

Do I get a picture back?

Sloane:

A shirtless one? Why, sir!

Me:

No, of course not.

Sloane:

lol besides, I sent one first!

Me:

Maybe I want another one.

Sloane:

I’ll consider it after my burger.

Me:

I’m kidding, you don’t have to.

I’ve just gotten out of the shower when my phone beeps with another message, and I see she’s sent a picture of her lying on a couch under a blanket. Her face isn’t completely free from makeup, her lips glossy and her lashes long against her brightblue eyes. Her hair is kind of wild around her, maybe from her run or the normal Maryland humidity got to it, but she looks sexy as hell. The blanket is up over her breasts like where a woman wraps a towel around herself, but I can see tiny pink straps peeking out of the top. She’s smiling, showing all her teeth, and with how perfect they are, I imagine she always shows them in pictures.

Me:

You are so gorgeous. College boys are going to be all over you.

Sloane:

And what if I’m not interested in college boys?

Me:

You might be when you get there

Sloane:

I don’t know, I might be kind of interested in this guy who’s a few years out of college.

Well, that’s different.

I wasn’t used to women openly admitting their thoughts so directly. Sure, they flirted and made coy jokes that implied they were interested, but I rarely meet women who share their feelings so freely.Especially while sober.

Me:

Ha. Just a few