Free One Broke Girl by Rhonda Helms Page A

remember,” I admitted. “When I was a kid, I didn’t appreciate how pretty and homey it was here.”
    The background noises faded away as each pairing fell into easy conversation, only broken by our rounds of bowling. I learned about Gavin’s favorite music—rock—and shared with him my favorite food—lasagna. We discussed why cell phones, especially texting, were making society less social and more awkward. We talked about the space program and how we wished there were more funding to explore the universe. Our conversation flew all over the place over the next half hour, and I almost hated to interrupt it with bowling.
    Gavin had been right; he was terrible at the game. But so was I. Most of my throws went right into the gutter, and he teased me about it mercilessly.
    “Like you have any room to talk, Mr. Two On The Last Round,” I retorted with a smug grin. “You’re only ten points above me.” I sat down and said, “So…can I ask you a semi-nosy question?”
    His brow rose. “Nose away.”
    “What made you stay here? Why didn’t you ever move?”
    He paused and studied my face for a moment. His eyes were completely unveiled before me, and I could practically read the thoughts flickering in his mind. He was trying to decide if I was asking a sincere question or going to make a point about him being a small-town guy. Apparently he settled on the former. “I like it here. Yeah, it’s not the biggest place in the world. But if I’m ever in a hard spot, my neighbors will lend me a hand. I feel like I belong. There’s a sense of community here you don’t find in a big city.”
    Hm. Good points. I loved city life. And to some degree, I liked the fact that I was just another anonymous person in New York—that my business was my own and I didn’t need to worry about strangers gossiping about me.
    But back in the city, I hadn’t found friends like Natalie or Bianca. And the cost of living was so expensive there that we couldn’t have made it work, even if we could have stayed. I wouldn’t have seen Ohio transition into autumn. Wouldn’t have learned the satisfaction of hard work.
    And I wouldn’t have gotten to know Gavin.
    “Do you like teaching?” I asked.
    “Love it.” His answer was quick, honest. “It wasn’t what I wanted to do as a kid, but I’m glad I found a job I enjoy. I’m lucky.”
    Interesting. My curiosity was piqued. “What did you want to do instead?”
    “You’re up, Gavin,” Rich said in a sullen voice as he thunked in the seat beside Bianca, whose face quirked with amusement. Apparently his round hadn’t gone well. His score popped up on the screen—yup, only three pins knocked down.
    Gavin stood, grabbed his bowling ball and got to the top of the lane. I saw his back muscles flex beneath his shirt and my mouth grew dry. He drew his arm back, released the ball, and it went flying down the center of the lane.
    “A strike!” Natalie cried out, clapping. “Kick ass, Gavin! First strike of the night!”
    He sent her a warm smile, and then his eyes swept over me in an almost physical caress. “Mr. Two On The Last Round gets a name upgrade,” he murmured.
    I swallowed as the searing heat from his thigh poured into mine. Our legs were pressed full-on together now. “You got it, Mr. Big Ball.”
    His lips twitched. “Not quite what I had in mind.”
    I stood and grabbed my ball. Aimed and flung it. It thunked and bounced but stayed in the lane this time, and I knocked out five pins. “Whoo!” I said as I thrust my arms in the air and wiggled my body. “Suck it, haters. Check out that foxy action.”
    Bianca snorted. “Someone’s getting drunk on power.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Knock down those other five pins and then we’ll talk,” Natalie said with a mock eye roll, but she shot me a smile.
    The ball returned to me. I stopped, drew in a slow breath. Tossed it down the lane…and knocked down four.
    Hell, that was still nine. I’d take it. I strutted back to the