Fall For Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

you get my signed Clutch t-shirt.”
    Obviously, I wasn’t planning on him winning, but I knew that would pique his interest. Clutch was his favorite band—total favorite. But they were mine too. Last summer I won tickets off the radio to meet them live and they all signed a concert tee for me. I loved that t-shirt and Riley totally coveted it. He held it ransom last year when I wouldn’t give him my extra ticket to see Clutch live, to a sold out show. I took Finn instead, even though Finn wasn’t really into them. Now that seemed kind of lame, but … I used to think Riley hated me.
    “Seriously?” Riley sounded intrigued with the stakes.
    I nodded, unable to look at him for some reason. “Yup.”
    Riley rubbed the back of his neck, then hesitantly grabbed the other cue from the wall. He waited for me to meet his gaze. “I’m not planning to lose.”
    I swallowed, ‘cause it seemed he was referring to the kiss, but then I shrugged, trying to act chill. “Finn never thinks he’s going to lose either.”
    A small grin grew on Riley’s lips. “That’s what I count on.”
    His eyes stayed steady on me as I tried to pretend I didn’t get his meaning—that he’d baited Finn to take the bet, so he could kiss me. Instead, I busied myself getting the balls lined just right, so I didn’t have to meet his gaze, but I could feel his hungry eyes trained on me, drinking in my every move.
    Eeek! I shouldn’t have made the bet. It was stupid. I was a good pool player, like, awesome. But I wouldn’t be able to play tonight, not with his eyes on me like this, looking all hungry.
    And of course, Riley was awesome at pool too. As we played, I started to sweat, realizing he might actually be better than me. No. Way. The game was close, but in the end, I made him scratch the ball and lose the game.
    It was kind of sneaky on my part, but hey, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.   And lately I’d kind of been noticing Riley, at work, noticing when he watched me. He liked my long hair—a lot. Like, when I’d mess with it his eyes would glaze over and he seemed to go into this “guy” little fantasy world and stay there a while. It was funny. And flattering.
    And useful.
    Tonight—knowing how he felt about it—with every shot he took, I’d mess with my hair as much as possible. I purposely made my actions visibly accessible to him, so he could focus on them. And believe me, he did. By the middle of the game, his eyes were glazed, totally hot for it. He looked as though he wanted to chuck the cue—and the bet—and tangle his hands in my tresses.
    So on his next turn, I was merciless. I messed with my mane, twisting it around my finger, flinging it from side to side. Riley watched me silently from across the table, his eyes devouring my every move, though he was trying to focus on his shot. He would take a distracted look at the set-up, then his gaze would keep creeping back to me. Finally, he started to go for it, haphazardly taking the shot though he wasn’t focused. At all.
    I purred out a sigh that I hoped was sexy, but I wasn’t quite sure as I wasn’t really up on “sexy.” I bent over letting my hair fall between my knees, then did a gratuitous “fluff and flip,” tossing my tresses back over my head so they bounced all perky and wild over my shoulders. Riley’s shot went wild, banking the eight ball off the table, and sending it flying across the room.
    “Yes!” I screamed, totally unable to believe my luck. (Good or bad—depending on how I looked at it.)
    In any case, Riley just lost. And I was free to go. So I did. I ran for the door before my body had a chance to negotiate with my head. Because that game—and Riley’s hot, hungry eyes—had me burning. Burning for Riley. For his kiss. For his hot hands in my hair.
    So, I didn’t look back. Not once. Knowing if I looked, I would see Riley’s eyes full of want and desire. Desire for me. And I didn’t want that. Well … didn’t want