WitFit Prompt: Grief
Just A Kiss
Twelve thirty-five on the dot.
It’s my favorite time of day because every Monday through
Thursday, my dream guy walks through those library doors like clockwork.
Like he freakin’ owns the place.
Smirking as he walks by like he owns me.
Every day it’s the same thing. First I hear the tell-tale crunch crunch of his metal spiked cleats
as he walks through the doors. Stupid university library. Who cares that tile floors are easier on
upkeep than carpet? It’s also louder! Which means I can’t miss him!
When I look up, he’s always wearing some varying shade of Under
Armour shirt-that he was obviously poured into-and it’s tucked into his tight,
grey baseball pants that seriously make me lose my damn mind. That
kind of fine is so not fair.
Their practice is at two o’clock every afternoon and rather
than waste time by going back to the dorms to change, he and his teammates come
to their mandatory study hall already dressed out, ready to play.
Trying
to kill me. Stupid coaches with
their stupid mandatory study halls.
Then, as he struts by, cleats crunching and his back pack slung over one
shoulder all casual-like, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, he winks and
mouths, "Sorry, Bella," before he
takes his seat over at one of the tables in the corner, his chair facing my
check-in desk.
Of course. Like those two seconds aren’t torture
enough, he has to sit where I can see him, drool over him.
And it’s like that.
Every. Damn. Day.
Like I’m supposed to be able to handle that much sexiness at
one time, much less repetitively?
And I know he only knows my name because he’s on the team
with my cousin, Emmett, not because he’s noticed me. As
if. He’s Edward freakin’ Cullen for
crying out loud. Best short-stop in the
conference!
Good grief!
Baseball season is just getting started. It’s gonna be a loooooonngg spring.
No comments:
Post a Comment