Read Blind Landing (Flipped #1) for Free Online Page B

for fun sex, for hot hookups with even hotter guys. And I know Spence will be mind-blowing. But just like my mental block standing on that beam, something is holding me back from this.
    I reach out to him, his hard abs contracting under my fingers and threatening to change my mind. “Spence, believe me. I think you’re hot. I know I’m hot. And I also know this would be good. Like, really good. But I have to stay focused. I don’t need any of the drama or speculation that surrounds a friends-with-benefits situation. The other gymnasts questioning if we’re sleeping together. The whole coach-athlete thing. I came here with one goal, and that was to make the Olympic team. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and I certainly don’t think you’re looking for a girlfriend. I like flirting with you. It’s fun. But that’s all this can ever be.”
    His eyes flick from the small curves of my breasts in my Hawaiian flower-print leotard up to my face. Despite my refusal, my breath is still coming out in gasping puffs. I gulp hard to get my rampant bodily responses under control.
    “So … we stay flirty friends?” That lopsided smirk graces his full lips, and I have the urge to lean forward and take back everything I’ve just said. Literally. As in steal my words and promises straight from inside his mouth. With my tongue.
    I nod, all too aware that we’re still standing basically chest-to-chest in this empty gym. I stick out my hand for him to shake, covertly putting a few inches of much needed space between us.
    “Flirty friends it is.”

Eight
Spencer
    I walk into the diner looking for a strawberry blond head.
    Pivoting my body to search for her, I see that there is only one woman in the place, sitting in the far back corner. And she has hair dyed the color of violets and gray paint.
    “Oh, Spence!” The woman waves at me, and suddenly I realize I’m staring back at my own mother’s clover green eyes.
    “Mom … what the hell?” I start towards her, the smell of pancakes and bacon wafting into my nostrils. I can’t wait to inhale some pork roll. And on her dime too.
    She primps her hair, throwing the long locks over her shoulder and then back in front of her face again. “Do you like it?! My stylist told me it’s what all of the kids are doing these days. Really hip and modern!”
    I stifle the urge to burst out laughing. “Ma, if you have to say the word hip, it usually means it isn’t.”
    Her long lashes turn down in disappointment, and I try to recover quickly. “But I mean, I really like it! Looks fresh and fun on you! You know you’re always the most beautiful woman in my life.”
    When in doubt, pull out that Russell charm. It’s worked in every avenue of my life, for as long as I can remember.
    “You know, you learned that appeasing quality from your father. He could charm the pants off a nun.”
    I hooted out a laugh, picturing my old man trying to get a religious woman out of her panties. He probably could too.
    My parents are hardworking, honest people who have made a home and a life for themselves in northern New Jersey. They live down the block from my mother’s parents, and a town over from my father’s folks. A teacher and a stockbroker, I was raised on the values that manners are not an option and neither is letting someone step all over you. I grew up a Tri-State kid; splitting my time between New York City, which to us was just The City, and the Jersey Shore, which to us was just The Shore. My childhood was a happy one; it was always just mom, dad and me. I got to pick where we went on vacation, what meals mom made each night, what board games we played on Fridays. I was the only child of parents who were open to most things. And while they worked hard, once they were off the clock, they just wanted to have fun. It’s probably, no definitely , where I adopted my laid-back energy and ability to just go with the flow.
    But it was also lonely. I’d always wished for a big family, a bunch