Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)

Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance) by Abigail Graham

Book: Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance) by Abigail Graham Read Free Book Online
Authors: Abigail Graham
make this a date."
    "Food makes it a date?"
    "Food makes it a date," I decree.
    "The calendar makes it a date, baby. Come on, I'm hungry as hell and I like watching you eat."
    "We cannot eat in the library, whether we wish it or no."
    "You can eat in the study nooks. Come on, live a little. Let's eat in the library."
    "I know what you want to eat in the library."
    "You know," he says, smirking at me, "you're the one that keeps making innuendos, not me. Then again, you are carrying a can of tuna. That one's too easy."
    "I will eat with you in the study nook if you shut up. But it is still not a date."
    "Fine with me. Come on, I just need to feed the beast."
    We cross the street and walk back up to the Parkman Library, and take the elevator up to the second floor. The study nooks are small rooms lined with couches set up around a table. After I sit down and Jason sits a foot away, Bjorn and Thorlief squeeze in and both fold their arms, staring at him.
    "I can't work with them in here," Jason says. "They throw off the feng shui of the whole room."
    "He's not going to touch me," I tell them.
    "Nope," he agrees.
    "If he touches me I'll scream and you'll break his legs," I tell them.
    Thorlief gives me a peculiar look I can’t read, and leads Bjorn away.
    "Yep," he agrees. "Wait, what?"
    I give him a sharp smile and spread a napkin on the table, then open my pocketknife and use the can-opener attachment on the tuna. I drop the wet lid neatly in my now-empty bag, squeeze out the mayonnaise, and mix it into the meat with my spork.
    "Are you seriously going to eat tuna out of a can with mayonnaise on it?"
    "I like fish."
    "It's not even cold. Why do they even sell that in the minimart?"
    I shrug and eat small bites from the can, then peel my orange.
    When I dip a segment of the fruit in the tuna and pop it in my mouth, Jason makes a disgusted noise, as if he's about to spit out his Super Protein XXXTreme Power Bar 9000.
    It actually said that on the label.
    He stares in horror. "What are you doing?"
    "You don't eat fruit with fish?"
    "No!"
    I shrug. "I do." I pop the next piece in my mouth, but salt it first.
    Jason looks at me as though I have two heads.
    "Does this mean you no longer find me attractive?"
    "Sugar Buns, I could watch you eat an orange all day. Even if you do put tuna salad on it. Shitty tuna salad. You know tuna salad has onions, right?"
    "I don't like onions," I sneer, then wash down my meal with half of my milk carton.
    Jason eats his energy bars so fast they seem to disappear as soon as he peels back the wrapper, all the while chugging his chocolate milk.
    "You keep looking at the bottle," he says, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm.
    "I have never had chocolate milk."
    He gapes at me. "Are you sure you're not really an alien?"
    I snatch the bottle from him and take it in both hands, and tip it back.
    I lower it slowly, swirling the sweet milk in my mouth. I have never tasted such a complex flavor before, so many notes, though the sweetness nearly overwhelms it.
    "You're looking at that bottle like you want to take it home."
    "I'm more likely to take the bottle home than I am you."
    "You're breaking my heart."
    "I don't think it's your heart that pines for me."
    "Oh it does. The other part gets wood for you."
    I roll my eyes. "That was almost clever."
    "Thanks. Come sit on my lap and we'll talk about the Gospel of Wealth." He pats his knee.
    I start to blush.
    Stop it, Anastasia.
    "Are you forgetting I threatened to have your arms broken?"
    "It was my legs, and you only said that so you could get me alone and ravish me."
    "It was your legs, and it was five minutes ago. I have a good memory."
    "So you remember this morning when you were sitting on—"
    A flush creeps up my neck. I do in fact remember. I remember well. I glance at his crotch and remember very intensely. I look up and he's grinning.
    "You are so damn cute. Cuter when you're embarrassed."
    "Are we going to study? If not, I am leaving."
    He lets

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