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prove her wrong or something.
    “A mistake,” she repeats. “I didn’t even really want to do this anyway. I’ll go home and tell my dad it’s off. You won’t have to worry about hanging around with a… what was it? A rich bitch anymore.”
    “Hey, wait — ” As she stands to go, I reach out to grab her arm to stop her from going. The palm of my hand brushes against the exposed skin of her wrist, and I feel a little frisson of heat surge through me, like touching her has charged my skin with electricity.
    She looks down at me, shocked — either because she felt it too, or because she’s so shocked I dared to touch her pristine skin.
    “Let. Me. Go.” Her voice is calm and deadly serious.
    “Okay, okay,” I say, letting her go, though the tingle in my skin doesn’t go away. “I’m just saying, my coach’ll kill me if I fuck this up.”
    She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that’s my problem,” she says.
    She’s colder than a witch’s tit, I swear. Maybe she’s on the rag.
    I’m trying to de -escalate the situation, however, so I don’t say that out loud.
    The other thought I don’t say out loud is that I bet a girl like this — all tightly-wound and repressed — would be an absolute animal in the sack. Again, my mind is filled with the thought of her breathless and panting, hair messed up, perfect white skin all flushed red, legs spread, me pushing my way between them, making those full tits bounce as I thrust into her….
    That’s not a helpful image.
    My cock doesn’t care, though. I’m already half-hard just at the thought of it.
    Ava’s still standing up and showing no signs of sitting down again. But at least she’s not walking away. And as long as she’s not walking away, I still have a chance to talk her into staying, and save my testicles from a mauling from Coach Jackson.
    “C’mon,” I say, smiling. Whatever front she’s putting up, I already know she’s hot for me. “Let’s figure this out.”
    She hesitates a moment longer. And then she shakes her head.
    “Sorry. But no.”
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    AVA
     
     
    “You did what? ” Darcey asks, staring at me like I’ve just confessed to being the Zodiac Killer. “Do you even know how many girls would kill to hang around Riley Knox all day?”
    “Do you even know how little I care?” I ask, angrily yanking my hair back into a ponytail. “Those other girls are welcome to him, with my compliments. Here’s a total ass.”
    My voice shakes a little as I say it.
    I’m not a great liar.
    Okay, I’m not lying about Riley being an ass — that part is totally true.
    But I am lying about not caring, or that being the reason I don’t want to continue with this stupid charade of Murray’s.
    The real reason is that if I have to spend one more minute than necessary around Riley Knox, I know I won’t be able to keep from tearing his clothes off with my teeth.
    And that would throw a serious monkey wrench in the works.
    It’s supposed to be fake dating, fake being the operative word. My dad would hit the roof if I ever really brought a guy like Riley home. Not to mention the rest of my family. Like my grandma, who still haughtily refers to families like the Rockefellers and the Kennedys as ‘new money’.
    It’s totally out of the question.
    I know I was being a total bitch to Riley today at the cafe, but it seemed like the best way to throw him off the scent. I might be a virgin, but I could see the way he was looking at me. Between that and all the not-so-subtle little jabs about wanting to see me with my clothes off, I was lucky to get out of there without dragging him back here like a cavewoman and having hot, sweaty, beast-with-two-backs-type sex with him in the middle of the lounge room floor.
    I shiver a little. One of the messages I saw on the various groupies central messageboards dedicated to Riley and his apparently enormous cock jumps into my head.
    hoooooolllllyyyy shiiiiiiiit i won’t be walking for