Blurb:
I asked for his criteria for bed buddies–that's the PG version.
He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies.
And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start.
Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder.
Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation.
He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.
Correction: where I work again, because I was fired from my last job.
And dumped.
And I might have a tiny bit of baggage, but that’s normal. Right?
Reese and I shouldn’t have become friends.
We shouldn’t have become roommates.
And we really shouldn’t have started sleeping together … (Except we did.)
I’m adorably psychotic. He’s in the NBA.
This is not a disaster waiting to happen, at all.
EXCERPT:
Two days later, they’d won their first preseason
game and were back practicing.
Both gyms were filled and were in the middle of
drills. The sound of bouncing basketballs, whistles, yelling, and the squeaks
of shoes against the floor filled the courts.
And the smell of sweat.
I loved it.
I’d never enjoyed playing the sport myself, but
my brother was a basketball star for our high school team. He was starting
varsity in seventh grade, and growing up as Chance Manning’s little sister had
its benefits—but also its cons. One of the benefits, I was treated like royalty
at every single basketball game. Another girl, whose brother was on the varsity
team with Chance, told me she’d started being one of the team’s managers. That
was a loose title they’d given her because she showed up and took stats for
their games. She’d asked if I wanted to do it with her, and the answer had been
a resounding hell yes. The popular girls down front always had time for
Chance’s little sister, and the only better seating was actually with the team.
That’s where they put us managers.
So even to this day, a filled and active gym of
basketball players made a part of me purr like a kitten.
I’d missed this, and I’d forgotten how much I
missed this. Seems as if coming back to camp hadn’t been the only part of my
history I was revisiting, and I was okay with that too. I dropped the ball I’d
been bouncing idly and whipped my head around.
Reese stood at the counter, sweat wetting his
hair, his face, and his shirt. He held a basketball on his hip.
“What?”
My brain turned off. Reese Forster looked as if
he’d stepped out of the shower. He didn’t smell like it, but he looked like it.
My groin was inflamed. The Fourth of July
decided to visit, and I groaned, biting my lip. So embarrassing.
“What’d you say?” I asked again, my voice a
little raspy.
He nodded toward the screen door. “You and that
guy from the other day. You’re good friends.”
It took a second, but Grant. It clicked then.
The Tub Day.
And nope.
I was not going to let my weird brain go nuts
with thoughts here. He was asking because he was curious. That’s all. For no
reason other than curiosity.
Right.
A monotone voice sounded through my brain: Calm
the fuck down.
I swallowed, and just like that, I was calmer.
My normal response was to go into hyperdrive,
but enough was enough. I needed to be a normal person. Reese (I wasn’t using
his last name any more) had asked a general question, because he was generally
interested, and I could respond—like a generally normal person.
You’d think I’d be better after getting hazed. I
wasn’t. I was worse, in some ways.
I tucked some hair behind my ear. “I used to
work here a long time ago, and he and I—”
Reese bounced the ball between his legs, once,
catching it right away. “There was a thing?”
I was totally cool here.
“Yeah.” I winced at myself. “I mean, no. We were
best friends. That’s it.”
He dropped the ball again, starting to bounce it
in front of him. “So there wasn’t a thing?”
“Friends.”
“So who did you have a thing with?” He was still
bouncing, his head cocked to the side.
“What?” Why is he asking about this?
“Come on.” He looked me up and down. “You’re
hot. You’re trying to tell me you’re single?”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t.
He kept on, “And you’re working here as what? A
gym court attendant?”
“Um.” Shit. He wanted the deets on why
this train wreck was still working at a camp.
All the Damian trauma, Grandpa Newt, and getting
fired exploded in my chest in one big ball.
I let out a sigh.
“That’s...stupidly tragic.” What else could I say?
He caught the ball and stopped, staring hard at
me. “Stupidly tragic?”
I clipped my head in a nod. “Would you like more
water? I can get that for you.”
Pretending like he’d asked for more
water, I started walking away. I called over my shoulder, “I’ll get you more
water.”
He stared at me the whole way as I went back out
the door. I couldn’t see him, but I felt him. And then I remembered: we had
just filled the table with water an hour ago.
***
Reese kept his distance from me the rest of the
day. I worked like a normal employee, with only minimal fangirling still going
on inside of me, but not as much. The whole ‘stupidly tragic’ thing put a
damper on my inner fangirl.
But he watched me, and I couldn’t ignore the
flutter going on in my stomach. And those weren’t there because of my fanatical
fan-ways. They were there and growing because of a different reason, one that
was more like me woman and he man, that sort of way.
And that was bad.
I could do nuts. Crazy was a nice firm wall that
I kept around myself, shielding people from getting too close, or from me
connecting as a real human being kinda way. It was a good firm wall locked
around me, and the more he was watching me, the more that wall was getting
dents in it, and that was the bad part.
Really bad. Like seriously, I’m stupid—sign me
up for another stint of therapy kind of bad.
I did not need to deal with anyone on a real
basis. Lucas was the most I’d tried in a year, and we all know how that ended.
Reese Forster made Grandpa Newt not even a blip.
But, I was walking from the main lounge, after
dinner when he fell in step beside me, and for some reason no one clued Reese
Forster in on how bad of an idea he was to my senses.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier,” he
said.
I almost faltered in my stride, but caught
myself and kept going. I needed to deal with this problem before I was put in a
mental clinic.
“Tell me something gross about yourself.”
“Why?”
We were rounding one of the outdoor courts. A
couple of the other players were there, shooting hoops.
I figured, why not. “Because gross helps balance
things out. I need balancing out. I’m starting to like you.”
He grabbed my arm, jerking me to a stop.
His head inclined toward me. His eyes keen. “Say
again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. You’re a pro ball
player. Women throwing themselves at you is not new. Why are you surprised by
me?”
“It’s not that.” He gripped the back of his
neck. “As a line, that was almost lame compared to some I’ve heard.” An easy
grin fell back in place and he let go of his neck, nodding to me. “You can do
better.”
This guy.
I—no words.
Then I blinked a few times, staring at him
because he was right. I could do better, and that sort of thing wouldn’t even
phase him.
“Okay. Fine.” I could do this.
This was weird.
I was still going with it. “Is your dick cold?
Because I’ve got a warmer for it.”
He didn’t react, his face expressionless, then
his smirk grew. “That’s it? We’re not at the Roxbury. Do better.” His smirk was
growing cocky.
Jesus. He did not realize the stalker he was fanning
here.
Some of the bouncing from the court lessened.
The guys were starting to watch us. One guy broke from their group, heading
over. I saw it from the corner of my eye.
I coughed. “I don’t know. How do girls usually
hit on you?”
He shrugged. “Most just usually send me a nude
in my messages. Or you know, practically being naked and just grabbing me.”
“That works?”
His smirk was almost rakish now. “If I have an
itch and she’s got the warmer for my dick.”
That was so crude. My warmer got hotter.
“Yeah. Well. I’m trying to warn you away from
me.”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t scare me.
Besides, I thought you were funny.” He relaxed, rolling his shoulders back.
“Reese,” Juan called out, halfway to us. He shot
out a ball. It bounced once and Reese caught it without looking away from me.
“You think I’m less funny now that I’m being
honest?”
He flexed his hands around the ball. “Maybe I’m
missing the questions?”
Juan stopped just shy of joining our group and
conversation. He was waiting.
And I was waiting too. No one missed my
questions. I didn’t even miss my questions. I was waiting because I didn’t know
how to process this conversation. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you messing
with me?”
There was another burning feeling in me, moving
up, spreading over my stomach, my chest, rising all the way to my neck. It was
a burning feeling that I hadn’t felt in so long. I almost didn’t recognize it.
“Is that another attempt? ’Cause that’s lame
too.” He smirked. “Thought you weren’t a camp groupie?”
Well…there was always going to be a fine line
with that one, especially with him, only with him.
I closed my mouth and bit down hard. Juan
Cartion was listening to our conversation, and not even hiding it. The
Cruskinator was coming in too, his large hands on his hips.
I focused back on him, trying to ignore the
other two and now a third was coming over. “We have an audience.”
Reese’s eyebrows pulled together, skimming a
look over his teammates. “So?”
“So.” I coughed, smiling and dipping my head
down. My hands were almost shaking. “I should get the cage open. Excuse me.”
I wasn’t running. I honestly wasn’t.
I wasn’t hiding.
I wasn’t avoiding.
I—just—I’d hid from life while I was with
Damian, then hid for another year, and Lucas had been a crash and burn attempt
at jump-starting my whole living again. This, though. This, with a minor
conversation with Reese Forster (yes, I had to say his last name because his
first name didn’t put it into the best perspective) had me feeling things I’d
almost forgotten could happen in me.
I felt normal, for a small moment.
I was a girl crushing on a guy, not a fangirl
gawking over a celebrity, and it hit me hard in the chest. Right there, making
that thing pumping and skipping a beat.
That was what I’d been afraid of. 4.
We were heading down the trail when we passed a
few of his teammates coming the other way.
I averted my gaze, pulling on his sweatshirt as
he stopped.
“What’s up, Forster?”
“Not much. Heading back to shoot some hoops.”
I could feel their gazes.
Reese’s sweatshirt swamped me, but it smelled
like him. A hint of sand and pine mixed together. Tugging his sleeves down, I
balled them up and pretended to look at them.
“We bus out at ten, right?”
Reese nodded. “Yeah. Breakfast is at nine.”
That was news to me, though not the busing-out
part. I knew they had another preseason game coming up.
Fists bumped between Reese and the others as
they said their goodnights. We’d walked a few feet before someone murmured
something, and the others began laughing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I
knew that laugh was about me.
“They think we’re fucking,” Reese commented.
I smothered a “WHAT?” and let out a strangled
chuckle instead. “Yeah. No shit.” A second thought, “You think they’ll tell
your coaches about me staying in your cabin?” Because I hadn’t said a word to
the other staff. I didn’t want to hear any of the lectures I’d get. Plus I knew
Keith would relish the chance to fire me.
“Nah. And to be honest, I don’t think the
coaches would give a shit—as long as we show and do our jobs. And you’re not
underage.” He laughed. “Juan told the guys about your cabin, but none of them
are buying it. I figure it’s easier to let them think that than tell them
truth. Is that okay with you?”
I looked up. “What’s the truth?”
He grinned, the look taking him from hot to HOT.
“That you’ve become like an annoying gnat that I like for some reason.” He
raised an eyebrow. “How’s that for the truth?”
Warmth flooded me. I could be a gnat.
We started forward again, and I kept his sleeves
wrapped around my hands. “You could tell them the other truth.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“That I’m a stalker with polite boundaries.”
He groaned. “Stop with the stalking bullshit.”
He swung, but his fist was more of a tap on my shoulder. It was a soft tap, one
between friends.
Friends.
We’d become friends.
I was okay with that.
Review by Gia:
Teardrop Shot is a must read. I so loved this one. I got up early
and had two hours and fifteen minutes to get the kids ready to go out. I
figured ok, I can read for fifteen minutes. Well, that didn't happen,
this book sucked me in and I didn't pay attention to time. I ended up
having to put my kindle down around 44% and OMG that's a bad spot to
have to put it down at. So yeah, when picking this one up to read make
sure you have time to get lost in it.
Both Charlie
and Reese are great characters. Charlie is a fun girl with some ex
issues. She blurts out random question at times. I loved her. She has a
lot of things going on those and has high walls up. Reese is
basketball player. Reese is one of Charlie's favorite players. When
his team comes to the camp she's working at their paths cross. Reese
has his own issues. These two together mesh well. They start out as
friends and progress from there. They are characters that have layers.
At times they had me laughing and at other time they were dealing with
some very heavy stuff. This story was full of emotions. I loved
this one from beginning to end. You should definitely one click this
one.
5 Amazeballs Stars! 
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