Exposed: New Adult Sport Romance (The Boys of Winter Book 5) by Violet Vaughn Page B

I look down at my shirt to make sure I didn’t drip grease on it. When I glance back up, Neal seems to be holding back a laugh. “What? Do I have ketchup on my nose or something?”
    “No. But now I wish you did.”
    I frown. What the heck does that mean?
    We’ve both finished eating, and he says, “Ready to go be destructive?”
    “I am.” I stand and reach in my bag to find money. While I know the meal is on Neal, I don’t want to assume he’ll take care of the tip too. I place a five on the bar and am met with Neal’s smile when I turn to leave. My silly heart flips because it must have been the right thing to do.
    Trevor floods my mind once again as I remember how a simple smile from him used to make my day. But the memory gets pushed aside pretty quickly when I notice how nicely Neal’s jeans hug his butt as he leads us up the stairs. And my smile grows when I imagine how his muscles should ripple under his tight tee when he swings a sledgehammer to crash though a wall.

Chapter 11

    Neal and I enter a small space with utilitarian carpet that is littered with scraps of paper, dust bunnies, and other items one might find under a couch that hasn’t been moved in years. In short, it’s filthy.
    I ask, “Is this how the previous renters left it?”
    Neal nods as a crease form between his eyebrows. “Yeah, the ones that don’t make it tend to do this, like it’s my fault they failed.”
    I walk over to the wall that separates us from Rhinestone Cowgirl and run my hand over a dent that has broken through the drywall. Chalky residue coats my fingers, and I swipe my hand on my jeans as I say, “I don’t suppose they paid you for this, did they?” There’s a note of disgust in my voice.
    Neal cocks his head at me. “Don’t let this bother you. That’s what security deposits are for. It’s covered.”
    “Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t understand blatant disregard for things that don’t belong to you. That kind of disrespect upsets me.”
    Neal smiles at me. “Let me guess, you take in strays too.”
    I squint my eyes a little as I think about the feral kittens I took in back in Maine. “Are you making fun of me?”
    “No. But I am teasing a little. You’re a kind soul, and it’s sweet.”
    I snort. “Sweet? Where’s my sledgehammer?”
    Neal chuckles and walks me over to the far back corner where a toolbox is on the floor and a big yellow-handled hammer is leaning against the wall. A large roll of clear plastic is next to it.
    I lift the hammer up and take a practice swing. It’s heavy, and I lose my balance for a second at the momentum.
    “Whoa, slugger. There are a few things we need to do first.” Neal picks up the plastic and a roll of blue masking tape and hands it to me. “First I need to turn off the breakers for that section, and then we’ll cover the floor so it’s easy to gather up the debris.”
    A metal door clangs as he opens the electrical panel, and the switches click loudly as I walk over to the wall with our supplies.
    Tape tears from the roll when I break off pieces to hand to Neal so he can secure the plastic tarp he’s laying out. When it’s done he says, “Now we have to mark the wall so we don’t take away too much drywall. Go find the rulers in my tool box for me.”
    Metal clangs as I sort through the tools to bring him an L-shaped ruler and a long straight one. When I walk back he takes them from me and plucks the pencil out of my hair.
    “Hey!” Curls tumble around my shoulders and halfway down my back. “I had that up for a reason.”
    Neal taps my nose with the eraser end. “I’ll give it back.” His gaze lingers on me, and my insides tingle when his voice gets soft. “You’re beautiful with your hair down. You should wear it that way more often.”
    I open my mouth to complain about how difficult my locks are, but Neal shakes his head and puts his finger on my lips. “Don’t. Blush or say thank you, but don’t tell me it’s not gorgeous. Because it