Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

often thought that part of the reason was his long fingers, which, despite his prominent athlete’s physique, give him the look of a piano player.

Puzzled, I let my glance drift downward.

My eyes zoom in on his black V-neck.

Big Bad Wolf. 

“Are you…you’re…” I stutter like a fool.

“The scary predator whose task is to eat you up?” He winks, and my stomach makes a tiny flip. “Yep, that would be me.”

Bumping into Dev’s dazzling buddy at this weird party wasn’t something I expected. But him turning out as my destined mate? Now this renders me genuinely speechless.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to my campus?” Wyatt asks with a smile.

He, like all high-flying college football stars, lives in Tucson. I knew this, of course, yet it never occurred to me to let him know Hope and I were driving over. “I figured you wouldn’t come to a frat party to see me.”

Wyatt’s brows arch. “You kidding? Why not?”

Because your smile confuses me.

I bite back my idiotic phrase just in time. Unfortunately, I’ve been attracted to Wyatt ever since I’ve met him. At the same time, he never looked at me in any other way than as Devon’s little sister. I know that having an unrequited crush on my brother’s bestie is too much of a cliché—and I try not to remain stuck in it.

Which is why I didn’t inform him I’d be in Tucson.

I shrug. “I thought you didn’t pledge because you wanted to avoid the destructive jamborees? Or did you loosen up your strict regime?”

Being the popular guy he is, Wyatt got invited by several fraternities without ever doing a rush—formal or informal—but he turned them all down after his coach complained about the distraction the social clubs could cause.

If I’m honest, I admire his devotion. Even if I think he forgets to live outside the football field.

Wyatt shakes his head. “Nope. I still keep my eye on the prize, or in my case, the ball. I can’t be a top player and a frat boy at the same time.”

I shift my weight and give him a teasing smile while poking him on his arm. “How come you’re showing off your big fangs at this party then?”

Joking is my tried way to communicate with Wyatt. It helps me tame the mushiness the sight of him unleashes in me and avoid having him or my brother discover how smitten I am with Wyatt.

Wyatt shrugs, and his messy blond hair shakes with the ease of a young Brad Pitt entertaining journalists on the red carpet. “I had to drop off something to a guy who lives here, and as I entered, I got ambushed and branded as a grandma-eating monster.”

“Well, if the skinny guy at the entrance tackled you against your will, you might be losing your edge, warrior.” I wink.

Wyatt chuckles and leans into my neck a little. “My edge is intact, Ellie. Be careful what you insinuate. Remember what happened to Little Red in the fable.”

His hot breath gives me goosebumps.

Why doesn’t my body realize what’s safe to feel? Or in this instance, not feel?

“The wolf is killed by the huntsman, no?” I grin, ignoring my unstable pulse.

He turns with his entire body to me. “That’s the most popular version of the story, yes. But it doesn’t mean our tale can’t end differently.”

His gaze bounces between my eyes and my mouth, designating the amplified triangle on my face that’s supposed to be the universal sign that someone is flirting with you.

Or at least that’s what our non-verbal communication textbook teaches.

Though I’m relatively confident that Wyatt doesn’t care for me as a girl, should I still try to test the waters?

“Whatever the ending…” I hit a tone of voice that has only a hint of huskiness—if needed, I want to back out from my flirting act as smoothly as possible. “I’m not afraid. I’m happy that I’m with a trusted beast instead of a strange one.”

I straighten my back, wishing I had put on a top with a steeper neckline than the green one I’m wearing. Or at least a skirt instead of my white capri jeans.

Wyatt lifts a brow. “And I’m glad I didn’t smash the skinny guy when he fiddled on my chest. It would have been a pity to miss out on being your destined mate.”

His voice matches my mocking style, but there’s a weird undertone to it.

Almost as if…

Oh, golly…what’s happening here?

I’ve never heard Wyatt speak to me like this—not in these words and not in this seductive tone.

Could Wyatt be hitting on me? Or am I in such severe sleep deprivation after the last exam that I’m imagining things?

“Yes, it’s lucky we bumped into each other,” I mumble, entirely dumbfounded by the possibility that a forbidden desire I’ve been carrying for quite some time could materialize tonight.

Wyatt points at the door. “Now, I’d prefer to head out if you…”

My heart drops.

What a moron. Wyatt wasn’t wooing me, just expressing his joy of seeing his brother’s little sister. Great job, Ellie.

What was it with clichés and avoiding them?

A guy with glasses passes by us and taps Wyatt’s shoulder with a cheerful, “Your touchdown in that last game was massive, man. Even my chick thought so, and she ain’t no football fan.”

“Thanks, Lloyd,” Wyatt answers, but his eyes don’t leave my face.

That’s when I remember that Wyatt probably has a strict curfew to keep himself in top physical shape.

When Lloyd disappears, I say, “Of course, you’ve gotta go. You’ve got a game tomorrow, right?”

Wyatt shakes his head. “Nope. Spring break starts. I won’t have games for a week. I only wanted to move outside for the fresh air and have a stroll.”

“Ah, I see,” I mumble, pushing down my disappointment.

After all, does it matter why Wyatt’s in a hurry to leave me here?

Wyatt cocks his head, then reaches out and brushes back a curl from my face to behind my ear. The path his fingers trace on my skin lights up with sizzles.

“Shall we go then?” he asks.

We?

Wyatt must take my silence as hesitation instead