Page 46 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

“Coffee? Orange juice? Something else?” he asks. “Smoothie?” He points at his blender on the counter, and I can’t stop the giggle from escaping me.

“Orange juice is perfect,” I say just as he sets the waffle in front of me before grabbing the orange juice from hisrefrigerator. I prop my elbows up on the island and lean forward on them. “I did not expect you to be the kind of guy to make a girl breakfast.”

“IfI am being honest, I am not,” he says before pouring me a glass of juice and setting it in front of me.

“Liar.” I roll my eyes as I cut into my waffle.

“What reason do I have to lie?” he asks, taking the seat next to me.

I shrug becauseyou tell me? “To make me feel special?”

“One, you are special,” he says, and I respond with a quiet snort. “You are,” he repeats, and when I look at him, his face looks a little serious. “And two, I don’t usually want a woman hanging around long enough in the morning to have breakfast.”

“Well, that’s rude.” A vision of him slamming the door behind a woman thirty seconds after they have sex floats through my brain, and I try not to wince.

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But most women kind of know the deal the night before. I mean, have Ievermade a woman breakfast? Sure. But most women leave first thing in the morning, if they don’t leave sometime in the night. So if you think this is just a move I’m pulling on you, it’s not the case.”

Regardless, Sloane, it’s not your business, and you’re not exactly being honest about things.“Well, thank you for the waffles.”

“Thank you for the ride last night.”

“Which one?” I smirk at him, and he bumps his shoulder with mine.

We spend the rest of breakfast casually talking before the conversation eventually drifts into comfortable silence, and smiling at each other between bites. The easiness of breakfast settles over us, and part of me is tempted to stay longer, but a glance at my phone reminds me that I can’t.

“I had fun,” he says with a boyish grin.

“Me too.” I smile back. “I’ve never been filmed before,” I murmur. We’d agreed for him to delete the footagewhile I watched,but agreed we would definitely do that again.Even though we probably won’t.

“When can I see you again?” he asks while we linger together outside by my car. “When are you leaving anyway?”

“Next weekend.” My heart flips like it always does when I have to add to the lies I’ve told him.

“I assume you probably have everything squared away, but if you need help or need anything, I hope you’ll let me know.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it gently. “Or maybe I can come down and take you out before your classes start if you’re not too busy.”

Fuck. Shut this shit down, Sloane.

I swallow nervously. “Of course, I’ll let you know.”

His hand reaches up and pushes my hair gently from my face. “You okay?” And I hate that I came off so standoffish with that last comment.

I nod in response. “Yes, of course. Sorry, just a little tired because we didn’t sleep much last night.”

I think maybe three hours total.

We fuckeda lot, my mind thinks, and my sex throbs in response.

“Listen, I know I’ve been a little back-and-forth about our ages and thinking you’re too young.” He leans against my car, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you probably are still too young, and maybe you don’t want anything complicated before you start school, but… I don’t know, I like you, so maybe we can keep in touch.” He rubs the back of his neck and gives me a sheepish look. “Or if you just want to hang out when you’re home… I’m open to that too. I just… think this could be more than a one-time thing.”

I may have gone back that night, where we stayed in and watched both of our favorite movies.I may have fallen asleep duringThe Godfatherbecause Lord, that movie is long. But he woke me up with his mouth between my legs, so I’d say it was a win.

The following day was a Monday, and we saw a movie after he got out of football practice, where we kissed like teenagers in the back of the theater.

Okay, fair enough, I am a teenager.

That night, we went back to his house, where he cooked me dinner. It was actually pretty fucking cute. I guess his future sister-in-law is a really good cook, and he called her at least three times with a question. At one point, I guess she asked if she should just come over to help, but he swiftly shut her down, sure she was just being nosy and wanting to meet me.

The week was flying by, and with that came the anxiety that I needed to tell Riversomething.I don’t think I’d fallen for him in the two weeks we were hanging out, but we’d gotten close enough that it would be weirdand meanfor me to just ghost him now.