Chapter 15 #2
“Alie, he’s the father of your daughter. Of course you want to see him. You have no choice, really. It’s okay to do this on your own terms though. And it’s natural to be curious about him. Plus, he is quite nice to look at.” She tries to bite back her smile.
“Is that right?” I tilt my head and give her a no shit look. “Yes, well … I mean, I didn’t come down here specifically to see him. I did come down here to see you, but if I happened to see him in the weight room, I would not have been upset about it.”
“I see. You just wanted to see him lift weights?”
“Right. I need to make sure we made a sound investment decision.”
“Ha! Okay, and were you curious about how much he could bench, or were you hoping to see him all sweaty and manly-looking?”
“Sweaty? Gross.” Okay, maybe not gross. “Just … you know what? Forget it. It’s fine. I’m gonna go. I’m going back to my office.” I stand and walk to the door.
“Don’t leave.” She laughs. “I’m just playing with you.
I know he’s still here, but if he’s not in the weight room, he’s probably cleaning up for the day.
He’s been in the gym for a couple of hours already so they could test his sweat and get some readings on him.
If he’s done with that, he’s probably getting ready to leave soon, I would think. ”
“Right. Okay, well, I’m just gonna go, then.” I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go up to my office.”
“You go do that.” She smiles as she stands.
“Yes, I’m gonna go, and I’m gonna do the work things.”
“Sounds like a plan. You should go do the work things today. You know what? I’m gonna walk you up. I could use a little break.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
When we start to walk out of her office, we run into Liam—because of course we do. He’s changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from his gym clothes.
“Well, well, well. Liam Pitz.” My sister stops, crosses her arms, and looks from me to him.
“Hello, ladies. Nice to see you, both,” he says, looking directly at me.
“You just get done with your workout?” she asks him.
“I did. Met some of the guys on the team too. All in all, a productive day.” He’s still looking at me.
“Excellent. And you saw my team before you showered, yes?” Presley goes into doctor mode.
He finally looks away from me to my sister. “Yes, ma’am. I believe they got everything they needed from me for today.”
Then I’m met with his intense gaze-—the kind that makes the butterflies swarm in my belly and my chest rise with a gasp. It’s the same look he gave me on that wintry night of magic and Christmas puns and an insane amount of flirting that led to the hottest night of my fucking life.
“Make sure you hydrate and get some protein in the next thirty minutes.” She uncrosses her arms and then looks at me. “Are you good? I’m going to run down to the training room to check on a few things.”
I literally feel my eyes shoot up to my hairline. She can’t leave me alone with him. “Um … ” I can’t seem to form words.
“Actually,” Liam interjects, “is the marketing department that way? I’m supposed to stop by to pick up some promotional gear.”
“It’s not, but that is close to Alie’s office. She can show you the way.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
My sister taps him on the shoulder, then winks at me as she walks away and mouths, You’re welcome.
Bitch.
“We going this way?” He points in the right direction.
“Uh, yeah.” I nod and swallow the lump in my throat.
“Ladies first.” He smiles at me and gestures with his arm.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
We walk silently, but it doesn’t take long before he speaks.
“Alie, we need to talk.”
“Do you have questions about your contract?” Good Lord, what am I doing?
“Nope, pretty solid there. You know why we need to talk.”
“Hmm, not really.” The flutters in my tummy are telling me to abandon ship and run down the hall and far away from him. Because I feel his body heat next to mine, and I can smell the clean scent of his body wash tickling my nose.
Instead of replying, he takes my elbow and opens a door to his right. He pulls me inside, then shuts it. And locks the door!
“What are you doing?” I gasp. I walk farther into the room, and my butt hits the edge of a table.
“I want to talk to you.”
“You’ve had two years to talk. And you think now, here, is the best place to talk?” I look around the room and note we’re in the offensive line meeting room.
Thank God most of the coaching staff is upstairs in meetings.
“Well, if I had your number, I wouldn’t have to talk to you here.” He walks toward me slowly, closing the space between us.
He’s so handsome that it momentarily distracts me.
“You don’t need my number.”
“Alie, come on. We had an amazing night together, and then you just vanished. I want to know why.”
“That’s what you’re hung up on? The fact that I didn’t stay to greet you when you got out of the shower?”
His jaw flexes. He drags a hand through his hair—a nervous tell he probably doesn’t even realize he has. He looks unfairly good when he’s irritated. Broad shoulders tense beneath his T-shirt. Eyes dark and searching.
“Yes, actually,” he says. No arrogance. No smirk. “Actually.”
I fold my arms, pretending I don’t notice the way he steps closer without meaning to. Pretending I don’t feel the pull.
“We had this amazing night,” he continues, voice lower now. “An incredible morning. And then you were gone.”
“God, your ego is beyond what I imagined.”
His head snaps slightly, like that landed somewhere deeper than I intended.
“It’s not about my ego.” His voice roughens. “I don’t care about keeping score. I care that when I got out of the shower, you had left.”
The air shifts.
He’s not posturing. He’s not teasing.
“I mean,” he exhales, searching my face, like he’s trying to find something he lost there, “we skated in the park. You were laughing so hard that you almost fell. We had that ridiculous dinner with ginormous milkshakes. That carriage ride …” His mouth softens at the memory. “You kissed me like you meant it.”
My pulse betrays me.
“You didn’t seem like a woman planning an escape.”
I swallow. “It was just one night.”
He steps closer. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend it was nothing.”
My defenses rise automatically. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Liam.”
“Why?” he presses quietly. “What did I do?”
His thumb hooks into the pocket of his jeans, like he’s physically holding himself back from reaching for me.
I look away first.
“This is what he wants to know, why he was ghosted,” I mutter under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Alie. I had just made you come, not once, but twice. Then I got up to shower, and you bolted.”
“I don’t think it was twice,” I mumble, but I think he’s right, if memory serves.
He chuckles and moves closer to me, and I realize I have nowhere to go. He would definitely catch me if I tried to move around him.
When he’s a breath away, he braces one arm on the table next to my hip, and the other hand comes up to my face, stroking my cheek.
“You know I’m not lying.”
I cannot form words.
“If you don’t want to talk here, have dinner with me tonight.” He moves in closer. So close that I can smell the mint on his breath.
I look between his mouth and his eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
His head moves to the side, and his lips brush the corner of my mouth when he speaks. “Alie, have dinner with me.”
I close my eyes and try to compose myself, but it’s no use. The goose bumps are in full force, my stomach is flip-flopping all over the place, and it’s taking all my strength not to reach out and touch him.
“Liam,” I breathe.
“Say yes.”
He pulls back and runs his thumb over my lips.
I should push him away.
But I don’t.
“I gotta say, seeing you again … fuck. You’re even more beautiful than I picture in my dreams.” He traces my bottom lip.
I place my hand on his stomach with the intention of pushing him back, which is a huge mistake because I can feel every ripple of muscle through his soft, thin T-shirt. So, instead of moving him, my hand takes on a mind of its own and traces the ridges of his abs, making them contract.
“Alie, say it.”
I draw in a slow breath and drop my hand.
I owe this man nothing. I owe him less than nothing.
And yet there are conversations I’ve had with him a hundred times in my head. Speeches sharpened to a blade. Questions I deserve answers to. A finale that includes several creative insults and a well-placed knee to the groin.
I’m supposed to be furious. Instead, I’m … stuck. Because the man in front of me isn’t the villain I rehearsed for. And that’s the problem.
“Okay, I’ll have dinner with you, but I’ll meet you somewhere.”
“Let me make dinner for you at mine. That way, we can have some privacy to talk.”
“Talk? Yeah, right. No, I’ll meet you.” I place my hands on his chest, and this time, I do push him back.
“Okay, you win. Tell me where and when. But you’re gonna have to give me your number.” He smiles, and it should be illegal. This man can get anything he wants with just a little tilt of his lips, including me, apparently.
“Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand.
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles like he just won the Lombardi Trophy, takes it out of his pocket, unlocks it, and places it in my hand.
I open his messages, create a text, enter my number, and send myself a text.
“Don’t make me regret this, Pitz.” I hand it back to him.
“You won’t. I just want to talk.” He drops it back in his pocket.
We just stand there, staring at each other for a minute, until voices from the hallway startle me.
“Shit. We can’t go out together. It’ll look weird.”
“Why weird? For all they know, we’re talking business.” He starts to move toward me again, but I hold out my hand before he can get too close.
“Nope. Stay there. I’ll go first, and then you can leave five minutes after.”
“Are you serious?” He smirks.
“Deadly.” I turn and walk toward the door.
Before I can turn the handle, he calls out to me, “I’ll be waiting for your text, Alie.”
“Give me an hour, and I’ll tell you where and when.” I look over my shoulder to see him standing with his hands on his hips.
He just nods with that stupid, sexy smile of his.
I gotta get out of here before I lose control and climb him like a tree. But also … I need to make dinner plans, and … find a babysitter.
What the fuck am I doing? This is a really bad idea.