Anyway.
Shep called me as promised the next day, but not until the late afternoon. Yes, he kept me on pins and needles, just like he predicted. He made me laugh. He flirted heavily. He asked what I was doing. I told him I was writing a huge paper that was due the next day. Eventually he ended the call but not before murmuring in that sexy, melt all my bones voice that he would call me again tomorrow.
And he did. I mean, what the hell? I don’t get his fascination with me. I really, truly don’t. I’m a bitch toward him most of the time and it’s like I can’t help it. I think he brings out the worst in me. He’s been so sweet though. Calling me, making me laugh. Sending me silly texts. Asking me if we can get together again and I keep putting him off with lame excuses.
I don’t want to tell him the truth. Not only does he scare the crap out of me because he so does, but there’s also that pesky little monthly issue that I’m currently dealing with.
As in, Aunt Flo is making a visit. And she’s a real nasty bitch sometimes.
It started with the small migraine headache the morning after the kissing incident (aka fuck birds moment). I knew when I woke up I was in trouble. By that afternoon I had major cramps. I really did have to write a huge paper that night so the excuse was legit. But since then?
Nope. It’s been all about the period.
“Your misery is making me crazy.” Kelli slams her laptop shut, startling me. I glance up from my pillow to find her glaring at me. We’re usually in sync. It’s that weird female hormonal thing that causes women who are together a lot to be on their periods at the same time, which is just…odd. But she finished last week and is all perky and happy while I’m drowning in my grouchy mood.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not sorry at all. My phone dings again, reminding me of my text from Shep and I inhale deeply, wishing I could answer him. But what could I say?
Oh hey, Sheppers I wish we could hang out tonight but I’m surfing the crimson wave at the moment and there’s no way you want to get near that so…toodles!
Yeah. That wouldn't go over so well. And I bet no one in his life has ever called him Sheppers.
“We’re going out,” Kelli announces as she stands, stretching her arms above her head and making her spine crack. I really hate it when she does that. “So put on some shoes and let’s go.”
“I don’t want to go out.” I sit up in bed and glance down at myself. Favorite faded pink T-shirt that has a hole in it, black leggings, no makeup on and my hair pulled back into a sloppy braid, I look like a train wreck.
“We’re just going down to the field. The summer soccer league has started practicing there every Tuesday and Thursday night.”
Hmm. Well, it is Thursday. And what’s the big deal about soccer? Blech. “Why do we want to watch them?”
“The dudes on the summer soccer league team are hot. And they always take their shirts off halfway through practice.” Kelli grins. “So throw on some flip flops or whatever and let’s go. It’ll take your mind off your womanly problem.”
“Fine,” I grumble as I grab my phone and stare at Shep’s text yet again. Should I answer him?
“Just answer him,” Kelli says like the total mind reader she is.
“What do I say?”
“What did he say?”
“He accused me of avoiding him.”
“He’s right. You are avoiding him, which is silly because even though he’s a guy, of course, he knows about periods and all that stuff.” She rolls her eyes and rests her hands on her hips.
“Yeah, he’s a guy who doesn’t know what the word commitment means so he’s probably never been with a girl long enough to have to deal with her period.” I ignore my phone and stand, slipping on my flip flops that are under my desk. I grab my small purse—the one I keep a couple of tampons in—and shove my phone inside, then sling it across my body. “I think I can get away with putting him off for the next few days.”
“Playing hard to get does seem to work,” Kelli points out.
“See? Then that’s what I’m doing. I’m playing hard to get.” This entire situation is ridiculous. I’m not a game player. I never have been.
“No, you’re avoiding him because you have cramps. That’s a whole different scenario,” Kelli says. “You should take birth control pills. It would make your periods shorter and less crampy.”
I shrug. There’s been no point. I haven’t had frequent enough sex to warrant birth control. Besides, what’s wrong with making the guy wear a condom? “Let’s just go,” I mumble, feeling grumpy. I don’t want to talk about birth control and sex. I could probably be having sex with Shep right now if I wasn’t dealing with my current issue.
My entire body flushes hot just at the thought of being with Shep like that. Naked. Having sex…
“Come on.” Kelli hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s go ogle hot guys without their shirts on. It’ll make you feel better.”
“I don’t know how,” I say as she drags me out of our room.
“Don’t you feel hornier when you’re on your period? Seeing dudes without their shirts on is just the fix you need,” Kelli informs me.
“God, you’re gross,” I say as I start to laugh. Though she has a point. I have been feeling a little…hotter lately. I just figured it was from my constant rehashing of the kissing incident with the hottest kisser on earth. Shepard Prescott.
If they handed out medals for kissing, he would most definitely win the top prize.
“You won’t think I’m gross when you see those shirtless hunks out on the field. Trust me,” Kelli says firmly.
I don’t bother to protest. I figure she’s probably right.
I’m just sitting down on the bottom bench of the bleachers, sucking in a breath as my butt connects with the cool metal when I catch a flash of a certain someone running by. My body goes on instant high alert.
Freaking Shep. Shirtless Shep. Running like a madman out on the field while chasing a little black and white ball Shep.
I turn an accusatory eye on Kelli, who holds her hands up in mock innocence. “You knew he’d be here.”
Kelli drops her hands and shrugs. “I was hoping for it.”
“Damn it, Kell. I look like terrible.” I glance down at myself. Ah crap, my leggings have a hole in them too. Right at the knee. I feel bloated and still a little crampy. My hair is falling out of the braid slowly but surely, and my pedicure is for shit. Chipped Kiss Me I’m Brazilian coats my toes. Sort of.
“You look fine. He won’t notice you anyway. He’s way too focused out on that field,” Kelli says nonchalantly.
“Thanks for the uplifting speech,” I mutter as she bumps her shoulder into mine.
“Please. You whine when you’re afraid he’ll see you, you whine when you think he won’t.” Kelli shakes her head. “Just watch him. It’s fun. Trust me.”
“You’ve done this before?” I’m almost afraid to turn my attention back to the field. What if watching Shep run around in shorts and no shirt for too long makes me do something stupid? Like…drool?