Sweet Spot: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Summer Book 2) by KB Winters Page A

cooking up in that pretty little head.”
    I flicked a glance to the beads of condensations rolling down my water glass. I refused to get all flustered and embarrassed in front of him. When I returned my eyes to his, he was wearing an infuriating little grin. I leaned back in my seat. “Fine, you caught me. I’m here to fawn over you day and night, follow you around like a little lost puppy, so you can tell me all your secrets. Oh, wait a minute. I don’t have to, because your clusterfuck of a personal life is already front page news. On every news channel and tabloid cover in grocery stores and mini marts from coast to coast,” I retorted, drenching my words with as much sarcasm as possible.
    Instead of being repelled, he just laughed. “Did you just say clusterfuck?”
    “I did. You do know what that means, don’t you?” I turned to get the attention of a passing waitress and placed my order—emphasizing with a side glance at Trey, that the order was to go—and Trey took the chance to order himself a beer. Something fancy, high-brow. I didn’t care much for beer and where I came from, people were just as content to crack open a can of Budweiser than to go for some small batch, craft beer with a hipster label on the bottle.
    Before the waitress left, Trey glanced at me. “You want something to drink? On me.”
    I shook my head, and looked around at all the empty tables in the room. Could I just get up and walk away? Would he follow? How long was my food going to take? I sighed and changed my mind. A drink might be just what I needed to calm my nerves. “Actually, you know what, I’ll take a hurricane.”
    The waitress noted it down and backed off, smiling with the promise the drinks would be right out. Trey smirked over at me. “A hurricane. That sounds like the perfect drink for a girl like you.”
    “Why’s that?” I squirmed in my seat under the dark stare and half-cocked smile he was giving me.
    “You have an effect on guys like me. We know you’re trouble, but wanna chase the storm anyways.”
    I laughed, the sound a hollow, bark. “ I’m trouble?”
    He grinned wider. “One hundred percent.”
    I rolled my eyes. “I’m not trouble. I’m tame, at least compared to your usual type…” I added, leveling him with another long glance, seeing if he’d take the bait.
    He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why you’re trouble. With my so-called usual type, I know what I’m getting into. But you…you’re a firecracker—must be the Oklahoma in you. But, there’s definitely something sexy and hurricane- ish about you and it’s making me very curious.”
    I stared at him, turning over his words, but then broke away from his dark eyes. I laughed and shook my head, marveling that I’d almost let myself get sucked in to those beautiful milk chocolatey pools. “Damn, you’re good. I’ll give you that. But sorry, Trey, I’m not going to fall for your lines.”
    He chuckled and paused while the waitress returned with our drinks. He took a long sip from the top of his beer and I twirled the straw through my drink. “All right, you’re a no-BS kinda girl. I get it. So tell me something about you.”
    “Like what?” I took a long sip. Where was my dinner? I needed to get out of here quick—or I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away from him.

Chapter Eight
    Trey
    “What do you want to know?”
    I shrugged at Josie and tore my eyes from her bee-stung lips long enough to come up with a reply. “Anything. Where you’re from, what you like to do when you’re not working, brothers, sisters? You know. That kinda thing.”
    It wasn’t my usual tactic, but then again Josie wasn’t a usual girl. She’d already proven to me that she was immune to my normal lines and appeal—or at least she faked it really well. And apparently…she didn’t give two shits that I was a pro-athlete and had tons of money. Most girls would jump all over me when they found out. She probably wouldn’t be impressed that I had