Page 8 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

Topless, probably.

“Ummm… no,” I say in a way that comes out almost like a question, and I’m not sure why, because she’s someone I would definitely remember meeting.

“You just keep staring at me. I figured you were trying to place me.”

“No,” I repeat. “Uh, sorry.” My eyes move downward on their own accord, and my brain takes notice of the tight navy T-shirt hugging what I imagine are perfectly round and perky tits. Remembering that she can fucking see me, I move my gaze back upward. “Your eyes are just…” I start when she snorts.

“My eyes.Right.” She raises an eyebrow at me before shaking her head.

“I noticed them first,” I retort, trying my best not to show my embarrassment over being called out. “They’re gorgeous.”Like the rest of you.

“What’d you notice second?” she asks while playing with the straw in her water.

I don’t answer right away, but the smile pulling at her lips deepens that dimple, giving me an easy answer. “Mouth,” I respond, and she breaks into a full-on grin, her blindingly white smile and straight teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“I noticed your eyes too and then your tattoos.” I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt, revealing ink on both arms that I’ve acquired over the past two decades. I’m used to the horny attention from women when my arms are out, and that’s before they even see my full leg tattoo.

“If you’re into tattoos, you should see the ones I have hidden.” I lean back in my chair just as the bartender makes his way over to me. I watch as her eyes trace down my frame as she’s probably wondering where these hidden tattoos are. “I’ll have another,” I say, as I hold up my empty glass, “and…” I look at her. “Do you want something to drink besides water?”

“I’m good.” She nods, giving the bartender a polite smile before he retreats.

“I’m River,” I tell her.

“Sloane,” she responds instantly and extends her hand. A soft, warm hand clasps mine, and I don’t miss the way her thumb drags across my knuckles when she lets go. So simple and effortlessly sexy, but my dick responds to it like it’s seeing a woman naked for the first time.

Like the thought of seeing this woman in front of me naked.

“Where are you headed, Sloane?” I ask, just as the bartender places my beer on the napkin in front of me.

“Maryland,” she answers. “I’m in the process of moving there.”

Not wanting to let on that I’m headed there as well, in case she turns out to be some sort of stage-five clinger, I nod and tack on another question. “Where are you from?”

She tilts her head back and forth, almost like she’s not sure how to answer. “A bit of everywhere. I’ve been living overseas for most of my life.”

Curiosity rises along with at least ten follow-up questions. “Oh wow. What made you come back here?”

“School,” she says, and the beer sitting in my mouth threatens to expel from me, but I manage to keep it down just as a chuckle leaves her lips. “Relax, I meant college.”

“How old are you?” I ask her, needing verbal confirmation that I do not need to gouge my own eyes out for ogling an underage girl.

“Twenty-one.” She reaches for her bag and pulls out her wallet. “What are you, a cop? Do you need to see my ID?”

“No… school just… threw me off.” I clear my throat and take another healthy sip.Twenty-one was still on the younger side even for me, but there is nothing wrong with talking.

Keep your eyes off her tits then.

“My parents are wildlife research scientists, and I’ve been traveling with them since I was a teenager.” She shrugs. “I wanted to come back here for college.”

“Wow, that’s really interesting. So you’re like Eliza Thornberry.” I chuckle, thinking about one of my favorite childhood cartoons and the fact that she has probably led the most fascinating life of anyone that I know.

“If I had a nickel for every time someone has made that comparison. That or Lindsay Lohan’s character fromMean Girls.” She laughs. “But yes, essentially.”

“Are you planning to follow in your parents’ footsteps?”

“No. I’ve gotten enough wildlife exposure to last me a lifetime. I want to be a journalist. I haven’t decided exactly what area, but I like the idea of entertainment or lifestyle. Hell, maybe even sports. What about you? What do you do? I assume you aren’t in college.”

“Are you saying I look old?” I joke.