Chapter Nine

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Chapter Nine

Cami-

Hunter annihilated me at Frisbee. It didn't matter how badly I threw it—trying to make him miss it—he always seemed able to catch it somehow. It was quite impressive, actually.

"Are you like some kind of super secret athlete?" I asked, bending over, my hands on my knees as I gasped for breath.

"Hardly." He laughed.

"Seriously, you've had to play sports at some time."

"I used to play varsity football and basketball," he confessed.

"I believe you. You're amazing." I went to the blanket and collapsed. "You said you used to. Does that mean you don't do any sports now?"

"I weight lift still, but not so much of the other stuff. It just isn't my thing anymore." He dropped down next to me.

"Well, I've already figured out you weight lift."

He chuckled. "You did? How? Are you spying on my class schedule?"

"No, I'm paying attention to how your t-shirts fit." I laughed, hoping I wasn't crossing any weird lines.

"Oh! Nice." He grinned, looking very pleased. "Glad I could give you something to look at." He gently tossed the Frisbee in between his hands.

I tried to snag it, but he was too quick, snapping it out of my reach with a chuckle. "You thought you were being sneaky. I can see how you are."

"Whatever," I replied, shoving his arm slightly. "You're just trying to rub in all your physical prowess."

He laughed loud, turning to look at me. "I like you, Goody. I think you like me too. Come on, admit it."

"Never." I smiled.

"It's not that difficult, really—all you have to say is, Hunter, I like you. Now you try it."

"Nope. Not gonna say it."

"I bet I could make you say it." He quirked his eyebrow, and I saw it as a clear challenge.

"You could try," I countered.

"What do I get when I win?" he asked grinning.

"It doesn't matter. You won't win."

"I should warn you—I don't often lose."

"Me either." I laughed. "Give it up."

He rolled over, tossing the Frisbee aside. He moved as quickly as lightning, grabbing me and tickling.

"No!" I screeched, clawing at the blanket as I tried to scoot from his reach. "Stop, that's not playing fair at all." I gasped for breath at his assault.

"Say it," he ordered.

"Noooo . . . "

He was killing me—I was so incredibly ticklish. He rapidly managed to flip me over, and I flailed, trying to push him away by placing my hands against his rock hard chest. Grabbing me by the wrists he stilled, holding them down against the ground.

He smiled widely, barely winded, knowing he had me effectively imprisoned. "Say the words and I'll let you up."

I shook my head as I huffed, refusing to give in as I lay underneath his muscular frame.

His look changed into something different—something smoldering, and I all of a sudden wondered if he was going to kiss me. His head dipped closer, until his full lips were a mere fraction from mine, and I could feel his breath against my skin. Goose bumps flared over me as he caressed my face with his gaze, and I stopped squirming in anticipation. I wanted him to kiss me.

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