The Play (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 1) by J.H. Croix

Author:J.H. Croix [Croix, J.H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-13T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Olivia

I glared at the mirror after another failed attempt to make my curls behave. Liam had asked me to leave my hair up, and I’d proceeded to spend close to a half hour dallying with my hair. First, I decided I was going to leave it down out of spite. It got under my skin to have him tell me what to do with my hair. Yet, it turned me on, sweet hell did it turn me on. So then, I decided I’d put it back up. I wore my hair in a knot almost every day, so this should have taken me no more than a few minutes. My hair was being naughty and fighting every attempt to tame it. I never should have taken it down. There was this one curl that kept popping out every which way. I ran my hand under the water and smoothed the curl into place, knowing full well it would likely unwind itself as soon as it dried.

At the sound of a knock on the door, I realized I hadn’t even had time to change. I was still wearing my plain black skirt and cream colored blouse from work—both nothing but boring and professional. Well, hell. I didn’t have time to do anything about it, so I walked to the door and opened it. Liam was leaning inside the doorframe, one hand in his pocket pulling the waistband of his jeans down just enough to reveal a glimmer of his skin with that oh-so-tempting area where his muscled abs tapered down. My breath caught when I looked up into his deep blue eyes. His black hair gleamed under the soft lights from the hall, and his mouth curled into a slow smile.

“Hello luv.”

It felt as if the very air around us heated. My belly turned in a slow flip, and my pulse took off. Somehow I managed to speak. “Hi. I, um, haven’t had time to change,” I said, gesturing to my skirt. “If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll…”

“No need to change. I love when you look all proper and such.”

I was instantly wet. When I realized my mouth had fallen open, I snapped it shut and spun away from the door. “Do you have to say proper like that?” I asked as I all but stomped over to grab my purse. I didn’t much feel like bothering to change because all I’d do was obsess over it, but still.

When I turned back to the doorway, Liam was standing right where I’d left him. “How shall I say proper?” he asked.

I slid my arms into my jacket and draped my purse over my shoulder. “Not like that,” I said, exasperated with his question.

He arched a brow, the hot look in in his eyes nearly melting me on the spot. “As soon as you tell me the proper was to say proper, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he replied, dragging the emphasis out on the word in question.

His crisp British accent sent flutters twirling in my belly.

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