Page 15 of Tipping Point

“Curls.”

We eye up the blonde locks and I run my gaze up and down her body. Her thighs are touching when she walks, and it sends little tremors over her flesh with each step. She’s got the hint of a little stomach under her top and her upper arms are soft as she indicates something to Alejandro as we line up for the third and final attempt.

“Not my type.” Reuben dismisses her offhandedly. “I like them like that.”

We look at Casey. She’s waifish thin and all eyes and hair.

I’d walk past her on the street and not even notice her.

Curls, however. I’d sink my teeth into flesh like that any damn day.

Curls claps her hands at me and Reuben and we startle upright.

“She’s kind of bossy,” Reuben murmurs as we stand up straight, lining up neatly.

I grin inside the helmet.

After she dismisses us, I hang around. I want to explain about the girl. Or something like that.

Rheese beats me to it.

He steps up close, and she takes a step back, surprised. I come to a standstill.

Rheese is packing on the charm. He’s leaning in and giving her his full attention, all smiles.

She’s not his type.

Her grey eyes are all big and stormy as she laughs, and she just stands there as he tugs playfully at a blonde curl, wrapping it around a finger.

That’s infuriating.

She’s not his type.

I walk up to them, my helmet loose in my hand, the suit too hot in the sun. I feel sweat on my back.

“What’s the pool?” I cock my head.

They turn to me, surprised. Curls’ stormy eyes flash and I recall the girl.

“Finnegan.” Rheese nods at me.

“What’s the pool?” I ask again.

He hesitates.

I knew it.

Curls stands looking from him to me.

Rheese narrows his eyes at me. He’s looking, really looking at me, like he hasn’t in years.

And then he smiles.

He turns to Curls, holding up his hands in surrender. “It’s all in good fun, Camille.”

“What’s going on?” She has a small frown and looks from me to Rheese.

“You’re not his type,” I say, looking at him.