Ballsy (EBOOK)

He’d found her.
One look, and he’d known.
Quiet where he was loud. Smart when he wasn’t.
Pretty…well, he’d never been and would never be considered pretty.
She was walking down the halls of the practice facility, earbuds in, eyes on the tablet in front of her, totally oblivious to anything except what she was concentrating on.
Certainly, she was oblivious that she was…his.
But he’d known.
Just like Pru had said.
He’d seen the slender column of her throat, the narrow shoulders, and long, long legs, and his heart had kicked.
Hard.
Hard enough that even a big brute like him had paid attention.
Stopped him dead in his tracks, sweat dripping down his spine, his temples, his beard.
And she?
She’d walked by without noticing him. Him. A man of his size didn’t get missed. Everyone knew that he was there. Because if his size didn’t get their attention, then certainly his voice would.
But…he hadn’t spoken when she’d walked by.
Because of that heart kicking, and he’d also had some lung squeezing action happening. Which meant that any hope of talking to her—her!—had disappeared.
He’d been reduced to emitting nothing more than a quiet sort of gurgling sound, and that had, luckily, been missed by her because of the earbuds she’d been wearing.
And now, still sweating, he was following her.
Trying to think of something charming and witty that would get her to realize that he was hers, and then they’d have their happy ending, and everything would be fucking cool.
Like Pru and Marcel.
Like Hazel and Oliver and their new baby.
Like Luc and Lexi.
She’d paused outside an office—empty, he knew. Or maybe not empty any longer, he realized, seeing the new nameplate attached to the wall.
Kailey Henderson.
One piece of the puzzle solved.
Next, convincing her that she was his soul mate.
He walked up behind her, stood close as she pushed open the office door, caught the wooden panel before it shut. She didn’t seem to notice that it didn’t close, that he’d followed her inside.
Earbuds. Dangerous.
But he’d discuss that with her later.
He moved to the desk, leaned a hip against it, and waited until she noticed him. Maybe she’d missed him in the hall. But in an enclosed space, this close to her person, and eventually she would spot him.
And she did.
Five minutes later.
Probably because impatience had gotten the better of him and he was rocking his leg back and forth, shaking her desk.
She stood up, pulled out her earbuds.
Smitty opened his mouth.
“Not interested,” she said.
And then she spun on her heel, pushed out through her office door, and disappeared down the hall.