Текст книги "Game On"

Автор книги: Katie McCoy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Seven

The soft whisper of Nathan’s voice echoed through my ear throughout the lecture, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. Not that it really would have mattered much to the article. Nathan just sat there listening carefully and taking notes. Even with an entire seat between us, I could still feel the thick crackle of tension. Obviously this wasn’t something he did with other journalists, but was this a move he used on other girls? Because if he had, I was sure a little digging would uncover a trail of young women in a state of shock. Who was this guy? I mean, really. No one recited poetry.

I sat there, hyper-aware of the desire coursing through my body, and was thankful that the professor didn’t call on any of the students to recite poems, because I was pretty sure if Nathan had pulled something like that again, I would have full-on fainted. Like Jane Austen-style swooning.

No one had ever recited poetry to me. And sure, it wasn’t really meant for me, more for him to prove to me that he could, but I was having a hard time shaking off the tingly sensation the soft timber of his voice with the perfect rhythm of the words had given me.

After a while, I relaxed and began to listen to the lecture. All around me students sat enthralled, some taking notes, some just listening to the professor standing at the front of the room. It was a packed lecture hall, not what I would have imagined for a poetry class at a university like this, but then again, I hadn’t ever taken the time to imagine what a poetry class was like. When I thought of what I had missed out on in college, it was all the journalism courses and mentorships. I had never thought about taking a class like this. One that was just for the pleasure of it.

“Iambic pentameter,” the professor was saying, “is a type of metrical line. It refers to the rhythm established by the words in each line, measured by groups of syllables called feet. ‘Pentameter’ indicates five feet.” The professor leaned on one foot, wiggling the other just slightly off the ground. The class laughed. “If you’ve heard Shakespeare,” he said, “you’ve listened to iambic pentameter.”

I still found myself speechless when we left, but this time it was due to the class. My notebook was full, not of ideas for the article, but notes from a class I wasn’t even taking. I clutched my notebook to my chest, suddenly disappointed that I wasn’t going to be around for the next lecture. Nathan was ever the polite gentleman, leading me through the crowd of students trailing out of the class and making sure to hold open doors for me. I got at least a dozen of strange looks, both jealous and curious, from those around us, but I was too focused on trying to remember everything I had learned in the lecture, especially since I knew I wasn’t likely to get a chance to experience that again. I was just about regain my voice when Mandy appeared next to us, looping her arm through mine.

“Hi!” She was all brightness and cheer and it took me a moment to remember that tonight was her date with Chris.

“Hey Mandy,” Nathan responded.

“Ready for tonight?” I asked and she nodded.

“I was actually wondering if you had some time to help me pick out an outfit.” She looked hopeful, and I felt that surge of affection towards her. That was something I could handle. I shook off the distracting bubbly feeling that Nathan had given me and grinned down at her.

“I’d love to,” I told her, surprised to see her looking past me, her smile fading.

I glanced back to see Chris jogging over to us with a somber look on his face. Looking back I saw Mandy’s happy expression wilt completely.

“He’s going to cancel,” she said to me under her breath.

“You’re crazy,” I said, but it did appear to be the reason he was coming over, though I had no idea what had changed. Chris was clearly crazy about her and vice versa.

“I’m really sorry, Mandy,” he said as he reached us. He looked over at Nathan. “Tonight is Josh’s party, remember?”

“Shit.” Nathan slapped his forehead. “I totally forgot about that.”

Chris’ face revealed his disappointment. “We promised,” he told us. “And you know how seriously frat guys take promises.”

“Oh.” Mandy looked crestfallen.

All four of us just stood there staring at each other for a moment until an idea bloomed on Nathan’s face. He looked over at Chris and elbowed him in the side.

“Ouch.” Chris rubbed his side and glared at Nathan, who glared back. Then understanding dawned on Chris’ face. He turned back to Mandy. “Unless you’d want to come to the party with us?” he asked, his expression hopeful.

I winced. Us? The last thing any girl wanted was for her first date to be a noisy party where she was now the third wheel between him and his best friend. I exchanged a look with Nathan, who seemed to be just as embarrassed by Chris’ total fumble of the situation.

“Oh.” Mandy looked over at me. The date had apparently just become a threesome, and not a fun one. The expression on Mandy’s face showed her disappointment—obviously a night out in a frat house wasn’t exactly her dream first date—and I couldn’t blame her. But Chris was cute and nice and clearly into her. It wasn’t his fault he lacked time management skills. Or finesse.

“You should come too,” Nathan said abruptly, and though he had his head down, his face mostly obscured by his cap, it was clear he was talking to me.

“Yeah!” Chris said. “Like a double date.”

“Not a date,” both Nathan and I said at the same time. We had already gotten started on the wrong foot by flirting, the last thing I needed was for him to think I was leading him on. Though, it felt like every time we were within a five-foot radius of each other, the sparks started flying. He made me want to act foolishly. Made me want to forget that I was here for a story, not for sex. Because at this point, one sounded a whole lot more fun than the other. And from the signals he was giving me, I could tell that Nathan felt the same.

“How about it, Sophie?” Nathan lifted his head. My skin tingled and I knew this was a dangerous game we were playing. But I was never one to back away from a challenge.

I exchanged a glance with Mandy and she gave me the smallest nod. I looped my arm around her shoulder and gave the guys a smile.

“What time should we be there?” I asked.

Chapter Eight

“I have nothing to wear!” Mandy wailed, throwing half her wardrobe across the room. I was seated on her bed, in jeans and a red shirt, as I had been for the past two hours, waiting for her to get ready. I looked at my watch. We were supposed to be at the party twenty minutes ago, but there was no rushing someone getting ready for a date they had been waiting months, maybe even years for. Who knew how long Mandy and Chris had danced around their mutual attraction for? I gave myself a pat on the back once more for finding a way to get these two together and then a begrudging pat in Nathan’s direction for saving the evening. We were a good pair, I observed and then quickly discarded that thought. We were not a pair. We were not a team. It was a bad idea to be thinking that way, even for a moment. Even if it gave me a warm feeling inside.

“I liked that yellow dress.” I pointed at the flowered sundress that was strewn over her desk chair. Mandy’s apartment was small, like my own, but adorable. It was neat—except for the bedroom—and had little personal touches throughout. I could tell that none of the furniture was expensive, but she had done her best to either paint or repair those parts that had a little more wear and tear on them.

“I wore that last week.” She was clearly frustrated. I could tell that she was on the verge of tears. I remembered how I had felt getting ready for my first date with Nick. Back when he had been a potential boyfriend, instead of his current status as ex. We had been flirting with each other for weeks and finally, finally I got him to ask me out. It involved a lot of hair flipping, a lot of V-neck shirts, and a variety of different smiles. I knew exactly how Mandy felt at this moment, though she probably had a better chance of things working out with Chris than I had had with Nick. Besides, Chris seemed like an incredibly nice guy. Already I could tell he was ten times more thoughtful than Nick had ever been. It was clear Mandy had better taste than I did when it came to guys.

But maybe not in clothes. She was still scowling at the yellow dress she couldn’t wear. I didn’t want to tell her that most guys didn’t really keep track of what girls wore, but then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris was the kind of guy who noticed that stuff, especially when it came to Mandy. He seemed thoroughly smitten with her, albeit slow to act. But that was typical in Texas, and not a bad thing in certain areas of life and love. I wondered if Nathan was the same. He had a similar languid style, though there was a focus that Chris lacked. I got the sense that whatever Nathan did, no matter how long it took, he did it with his full attention. The thought gave me a shiver. A good one.

“OK.” I shook my dirty thoughts away. “Sit down. I’m going to pick an outfit for you and barring any actual reason to reject that option, that’s what you’re going to wear.”

“This is why I need more female friends,” Mandy said, flopping down on the bed. “Boys are fine when you want to talk about sports or barbecue, but they are totally useless when it comes to clothes.”

“Girls are better at everything,” I told her, giving her a wink. “Boys are only good for one thing, really. And even that can be dealt with if you get the right vibrator.” I was half kidding. Not kidding at all when it came to Nick. Totally kidding when it came to Nathan, who I had a feeling was good for lots of things.

Mandy threw a pillow at me.

“You’re such a life-ruiner,” she quipped.

“It’s not my fault, you’re, like, in love with me,” I quoted back, still digging through Mandy’s well-organized closet. She didn’t have a lot of choices, which reminded me of my own wardrobe. Mandy and I were more alike than I had initially realized, with our work-two-jobs-to-get-what-we-need situation and our clear drive to be successful at our chosen professions. I had the sense that we were both trying to prove something. Me, I was trying to prove to my mother that my brains were worth more than my body.

“What do you need a fancy job for, hon?” she always asked. “You’re gonna quit it the minute you get knocked up.”

Trying to tell her that the reason I wanted a steady job was exactly so I wouldn’t end up like her never got me anywhere, so I just stopped trying. She was supportive, but cautiously so. She didn’t understand the things I wanted, just like I never understood why she didn’t keep trying to do better for herself.

“OK,” I said, pulling out a stretchy blue dress that had been shoved to the back of the closet. It wasn’t like any of the other items she had pulled out—those were nice, but sweet. This one was it. Scorching hot. “This is the dress.” I showed it to her.

She turned bright red and held up her hands. “Oh no,” she said. “That’s the dress my older sister gave me. It’s way too tight.”

“Put it on,” I said. “I’ll be the judge of whether it’s too tight or just right.”

Thirty minutes later we were in my beat-up Honda Civic headed down towards west campus. Mandy sat in the passenger seat, tugging at the hem of her dress, which frankly, looked fucking amazing on her.

“Chris is going to lose his mind,” I told her. “Possibly the entire team. And everyone at the party that’s interested in women. Maybe even a few who didn’t realize they were attracted to women.”

Mandy rolled her eyes in my direction. “Overkill,” she said.

“I’m telling the truth,” I said. “You look amazing. Blue is a great color on you and you are hot, my friend, very, very hot.”

“Thanks,” she said and then frowned at my outfit. “I still think you should have worn the dress you wore at the bar that first night.”

I shook my head. “The last thing I want is to remind Nathan of that night. You said he doesn’t like reporters, so I have to make him forget how he felt when he found out I was a reporter.”

“You should have borrowed a dress, then,” she said. “You saw how he looked at you today, right?”

I couldn’t deny that a part of me loved the way he had looked at me. God, those green eyes of his made my insides go all hot and unstable, like a powder keg that was itching for a light. And I had a feeling he was a guy who knew what to do with a match. I was overdue for a good boom, in a manner of speaking.

“Hey,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “I’m the wing-woman tonight, OK? This is about you and Chris.”

“And getting that interview with Nathan,” Mandy said, and I could sense some disappointment from her. “That’s why you’re really coming to the party with me, right? To get the interview?”

We had arrived and I pulled over and parked on the street. I turned to her.

“Look,” I said. “I need this interview, it’s true, but tonight, I’m not a reporter. Tonight I’m your friend.” I held up my purse. “I didn’t even bring my recorder.”

Mandy smiled at me. “You really think Chris is going to like the dress?”

“It’s going to make him forget his own name, I swear on my laptop.”

***

I had spent a lot of time wondering what things would have been like if I had been able to go to college. If I could have gotten a scholarship or found a better paying part time job or had a parent that could pay for my education. Would things have been different? Better? But even after spending hours and hours thinking about it, I still didn’t have an answer.

Being around Mandy and Chris and Nathan, all who were lucky enough to be getting a college degree next month, I kept feeling twinges of jealousy. It didn’t happen often anymore—feeling jealous of people who had the things I had wanted as a child—but these were people who had something I still sort of wanted. No, not sort of. Wanted. Definitely wanted. Being able to get a college degree remained a dream of mine. But I couldn’t see it ever happening. I already had the job I wanted—going back to school would just derail all the progress I had made on my own. Besides, did I really want to spend my evenings in frat houses drinking cheap beer? I looked around the room, everyone laughing and having a great time. The answer to my own question was clearly: yes.

The music was loud and the ground was rumbling with the beat as we walked up to the frat house. I wasn’t sure exactly what I expected, but I definitely wasn’t surprised by the noise and the kegs set up everywhere. The house was cleaner than I had expected, but still had the faint aroma of boy. Not an unpleasant variation on it, but nice, clean boy. Though the guys clearly weren’t much for decoration, the house didn’t really need it, all brick walls and wood floors. There was even a huge fireplace at the end of the living room. Kind of a fun, snow lodge feel to it all, ironic considering we were in Texas where snow fell on a cold day in hell. It was jam-packed, of course, girls in short skirts, boys wearing boots paired with button-up shirts. Everyone looked like they were here for a good time. I gave my shirt a tug, feeling a little under-dressed. Everyone else was clearly looking for attention, especially the other girls, showing lots of tanned skin, but I had come hoping to blend in. It was Mandy’s night, after all. I was her wing-woman and any good wing-woman knew that all the attention needed to be focused on the girl looking to get some action. I was hoping that Chris would rise to the occasion. I had faith in him, even if he did have the jock thing down pat. At least on him it was charming.

And the music was good. Perhaps tonight would be fun, even if Mandy abandoned me for Chris and Nathan totally ignored me as I completely expected him to do. But then there was the poem from this afternoon. And that smile of his. That sexy fucking smile.

I scanned the room and sure enough, found that familiar grin on a pair of familiar lips over by the doors leading out to the porch. I lifted my gaze to his, finding the same heat and intensity in his green eyes that I had seen that first night in the bar. It was a line drive straight to my panties. I swallowed hard. I hadn’t been lying to Mandy when I told her that I had left the reporter side of myself at home. Now I was wishing I’d left the attracted-to-Nathan-Ryder side of myself there as well.

He was wearing a button-up shirt that strained across his chest and jeans that were practically molded to his thighs. He looked delicious and he wouldn’t stop staring at me. It wasn’t until he broke eye contact, glancing to his right, that I realized that Chris was standing right next to him, his mouth completely hanging open. I glanced over at Mandy, who still hadn’t spotted either of them, due to the fact that she had practically been swarmed by guys the moment she walked into the house.

I grinned. I knew that dress had been the right choice. Now the ball was in Chris’ court, and I looked over to see how he was handling all the attention she was getting.

He still seemed a little dumbfounded and I couldn’t really blame him. Mandy looked stunning. I glanced over at Nathan, who seemed to be trying to get Chris to go over to Mandy, but the guy seemed totally frozen. Clearly he needed some help.

“Hey Chris.” I walked up to them.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes still on Mandy.

“She looks great, doesn’t she?” I caught Nathan’s eye. He just shrugged, as if to say, “I’ve been trying.”

“Yeah,” Chris echoed. “Great.”

“I think I heard someone ask if she came by herself,” I said, not very casually. I got the feeling that subtlety wasn’t the best way to approach Chris. “And I think she was looking for you.”

“She was?” Chris finally looked over at me.

“Yep,” I told him. “I mean, you did invite her, right? So you could spend time with her?”

“Right,” Chris responded, the realization perking him up. “Right. I did ask her here.” But still, he didn’t move. I was starting to wonder what I was going to have to do to get him over to her. Literally throw him there?

“Well, she’s probably looking for you.” I mentally applauded Mandy for paying attention to the crowd of guys surrounding her instead of scanning the room for her slow-moving date. “And she looks a little thirsty,” I hinted. “Like, for a beer or something.”

“Dude,” Nathan finally interrupted, sounding exasperated. “Go get her a beer before someone else asks her out.”

Chris blinked up at his friend.

“Now,” Nathan said.

“Right.” Chris made a beeline for Mandy, who welcomed him with a huge smile she hadn’t given to any of the guys around her. Immediately, all her attention was on him. The poor guys who had been vying for her attention were shit out of luck now. Offers of drinks and dancing were politely declined and it didn’t take long for them to scatter.

Now that Chris and Mandy had settled in to a conversation, I turned my attention to Nathan, surprised to discover that we too were alone, everyone around us at a respectful distance, though all eyes were on us. If Nathan noticed the staring, he seemed to ignore it, focused primarily on his beer. It was weird and I could only imagine how frustrating it was to Nathan, who had to deal with it all the time.

But at the moment he didn’t seem especially frustrated as he looked up and caught my eye. He looked around, seeming to notice that we had been given some semblance of privacy and smiled. He then leaned towards me.

“So,” Nathan’s voice was warm in my ear. “Now that you have me alone, what are you going to do with me?”

Chapter Nine

Any clever comeback I might have thought of disappeared from my throat as I turned to face Nathan. He smiled at me, a sexy, pleased smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I got a fluttery feeling in my stomach and my knees seemed a little less stable than they had been a few minutes ago.

“It was a nice try,” Nathan said, nodding towards Chris and Mandy, who were talking at the other side of the room. He smelled so good. “But Chris isn’t much for gentle prodding. He needs a bulldozer.”

“And you’re his personal bulldozer?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder. I gave him a once-over, trying to ignore how close he was. God, I would love him to drive his bulldozer in my direction. “You don’t seem the type.”

“I like a subtler touch personally,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. I tried not to shiver but failed miserably. He smiled and ran his thumb down to the soft skin on the inside of my arm. “But I can also tell when situations call for a firmer hand.”

“I can see that,” I said, thinking of exactly what I would do with that firm hand of his, starting with it tangled it my hair and working it down. Way down. It took everything in my power to keep from leaning into his touch. It felt so good and he was standing so close. All I had to do was turn and lean forward and—

Umm. Shit. No banging the subject. Topics…uhh. “I’m surprised you know Titanic,” I finally said and stepped away. I had to clear my head. But then of course, I thought of the scene in the car, with the wet handprint and the steam, and I was pretty sure my panties were about to burst into flames. Dammit.

“Well,” he said, taking another drink. “Three sisters. Some things you just can’t shake, no matter how hard you try. The guys made fun of me when they—” He stopped, clearly feeling that he had said too much.

I was surprised. “You told them about it?” I had gotten to him. Hopefully in a good way.

“Well.” He looked a little sheepish. “Chris overheard the joke. He’s a thickhead 90% of the time, but the one time you hope he’ll miss something…” Nathan snapped his fingers. “That, of course, is going to be the one he catches.”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. I liked this Nathan. Relaxed, smiling, and having a good time. “How long will they tease you about it for?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “It’s hard to get me riled up.”

Somehow I didn’t believe that at all. And he quickly amended it with a wicked grin.

“In situations like that.” He tipped the drink to his lips. I wondered which number beer he was on, but I was grateful that he was a happy drunk, rather than Nick who usually turned sullen after his second drink. He wrote some good music while he was drunk but he wasn’t always the most fun to be around. Nathan, on the other hand was smiling and relaxed. A definite change from the standoffish guy I kept running into at practices.

Then suddenly his flirtatious stance disappeared as he put down his beer and gave me an assessing look. “So will this show up in the article?”

I raised my hands. “I’m off duty tonight,” I said. “All of this is off-the-record.”

“Is it?” he asked, looking skeptical.

“I swear.” I raised my hand. “I’m just here for Mandy.” I scanned the room for her and found her in conversation with Chris. Good, they both looked like they were having a good time.

“Sure.” He looked over at me, clearly not believing me.

“Well, I will need that interview at some point,” I reminded him.

“I know,” he admitted. “And you’ll get it.”

I let out an internal sigh of relief. I didn’t want to admit to him how important this article was, because I didn’t want to show that hand. Not yet. He was hot and charming, but I couldn’t put his needs ahead of mine. I had been doing that with Nick and my mom for a long time now. I needed to put myself first when it came to this. I needed to get this article done and I needed to get the respect of my peers. That was the priority. I needed to stop getting moony-eyed over a hotshot baseball player. I needed to focus. But it was really hard to focus in this smoky room, the smell of beer and pot around me and that same hotshot baseball player standing way too close. Or, as my treacherous libido thought, not close enough. My stupid hormones. I was going to have a serious talk with them once we got back to Houston.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said suddenly.

“Apologize?” I was surprised.

He looked sheepish and entirely adorable as he took a sip of beer. I watched him swallow and tried to remind myself that we were finally getting back on the right track so staring openly and lustfully at him would probably be a bad idea. Definitely a step in the wrong direction.

“I’ve been kind of a jerk to you,” he said. “You were really honest with me this afternoon. I’m someone who doesn’t like to share details about myself, but you did and I totally took it for granted that it might have been hard for you as well.”

I realized he was talking about admitting that I hadn’t gone to college.

“I’m not ashamed,” I told him, wanting to make that clear.

“I didn’t think you were. It’s just…” He shuffled his feet. “Well, I’m sure it’s not easy to be on a college campus surrounded by people having the experience you never got to have.”

Wow. I found myself flabbergasted at how clearly he understood what I was feeling.

“I appreciate that,” I somehow managed.

“And for the record,” he started, his voice doing that same whispery thing it had done when he had recited e.e. cummings, and my heart made the same leap. “Any disappointment I might have felt had nothing to do with you. Well, not in the way you might have thought.” He kept his eyes focused on mine. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was judging you. That was never my intention. Now that I think about it, I’m just sorry for being a jerk pretty much each time we’ve spoken.”

I was really surprised now. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had apologized to me. None of my mom’s boyfriends had ever treated me with any respect, the guys at work either acted like I was their secretary or their girlfriend, and Nick had never been cruel, but also never really big on the whole owning up to his mistakes thing. An apology was nice.

“I don’t think you’re a jerk,” I told him, and it was true. I was starting to think he was one of the nicest guys I had ever met.

“I was just a little thrown off, I guess.” A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead and I linked my hands together to keep from sweeping it back from his eyes. “After the thing in the bar, I felt kind of stupid.” It was exactly what Chris had said. I guess he knew his friend pretty well. “I kind of get a little defensive when I feel like someone is playing me.”

“I understand.” I swallowed hard, totally captivated by his gorgeous green gaze.

“I was upset.” He gave me a half smile which was fully intoxicating. “I just thought I was flirting with a pretty girl and then you turned out to be a journalist.”

“I’m not here to catch you in some scandal,” I told him. “I want to write a good story. And I don’t need drama or trouble to do that.”

“You’re the first journalist to say that to me,” he said. “They always seem to want to know my deepest darkest secrets.”

“You don’t look like a guy who has deep, dark secrets,” I said.

“No?” he asked. “I’m not all flowers and sunshine.”

“Well,” I laughed. “I didn’t think that either, but you don’t strike me as someone with a whole lot to hide. You like things out in the open.”

“That’s true,” he said, and I realized he had slowly been moving towards me. “I do like to make my intentions clear as soon as I discover what my intentions are.”

“And what are your intentions, Mr. Ryder?” I asked him, suddenly intoxicated by his proximity.

“You see, Ms. Hall,” he said. “That’s the problem. With you I just can’t quite figure out what I want.”

“Oh?” My throat was dry and the word came out low and husky.

Heat sparked in his eyes. “Well, I suppose that’s not entirely true. I know exactly what I want. I just don’t know if what I want is the best thing in this situation.”

“Probably not,” I said, but didn’t move away from him.

“Probably not,” he agreed. “But sometimes you have to forget what’s best and do what’s right.”

“And is this right?” I asked.

“Only one way to find out,” he said with that smile of his. “Don’t you think?”

I felt the wall against my back. Somehow, while we were talking, he had walked me back towards the side of the fireplace at the end of the room we had been standing in. I was trapped, a hard wall behind me, a hard body in front of me. And I was making no complaints. His hand reached up and pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in front of my eyes. I shivered as his finger brushed my cheek. He leaned forward, his eyes on my lips, and I leaned forward, my own eyes closing. His mouth met mine, hot and eager and firm. I tilted my head back as the kiss deepened, our tongues rubbing together like two sticks about to start a fire. Nathan’s hands slid from my shoulders to just skim my breasts, sending a shiver through me, and then he gripped my hips assertively, pulling me tight against his muscular torso. FUCK YEAH. I melted into him, lacing my hands behind his neck, pulling him even closer towards me. He groaned into my mouth, and just as I could feel the hint of a hard rather large bulge against my thigh, a familiar tune burst out of the enormous speakers spread across the room.

“My heart will go on and oooooooooooooon!”

The spell was broken.

I opened my eyes to find Nathan glaring at the other side of the room where Chris was exchanging high fives with some of the other baseball players and Mandy was shaking her head, her arms crossed as Celine Dion crooned the famous song.

Sorry, she mouthed at me, but I could only shrug.

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” Nathan said, but he didn’t look angry, just a little annoyed and kind of embarrassed. Half the room was clapping and whooping. There was a slight pinkish tint to his cheeks. It made him look even more wholesome and handsome. He looked back at me and we shared a sheepish smile. We both knew that we were playing a very dangerous game.

“I should probably go,” I said, sliding out from between him and the wall.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I should probably go as well.”

“But I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked. “Maybe do our interview then?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t even look back as he headed across the room, giving Chris and his teammates a shove as he pushed past them. I could only hope this embarrassment wouldn’t derail our interview anymore. Unfortunately, it had done a great deal to derail any sense of restraint I previously had. I needed to get out of there before I followed him and did something that wasn’t the best idea, but seemed to be the right one at that exact moment.