Chapter Four #2
“Sam,” I say in her earpiece, my voice cool but laced with humor, “we’re almost done, but let’s throw him off a little and see if we can show his sense of humor. Ask him a couple of the lighter questions we discussed earlier. First one, ambition.”
Sam doesn’t even flinch at the question, a wicked smile spreading on her face as she leans forward. “Aston, we’re wrapping up, but we have a few rapid-fire questions for you.”
“Okay, hit me,” he says, laughing.
She nods. “First one is: what do you think your life would look like if you were ambitious?”
Aston blinks, but then lets out a booming laugh, staring directly at me again. He knows exactly where that question came from. His body shakes with his laugh, a handsome smirk popping on his face as he takes the teasing in stride.
“Wow. Ambitious, huh?” Aston murmurs, his eyes dancing with humor as he stares at me.
“Well, Samantha, if I were ambitious, I suppose I wouldn’t be content with just terrorizing quarterbacks.
I’d probably be an iron-fisted field producer who makes everyone around me work double time just to keep up. ”
The crew lets out a collective chuckle, and I can’t help the smile that breaks through my lips.
Good answer, Griff, I think, then speak into Sam’s ear again. “Next one, athletic.”
Sam grins again, loving this. “Fair and definitely shows ambition. Second one: If you were athletic, what sport would you play?”
This time, the entire camera crew snickers out loud.
Aston belts out another rough laugh as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on mine, not Sam’s.
The media room lights catch the white of his teeth when he smiles at me, the joke warming the space between us into something … else entirely.
“I’ve seen this before on social media, but I’ll play.
If I were athletic?” Aston repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Man, that’s tough. If I had an ounce of talent in my body, I’d probably try something relaxing.
Like professional hockey. That way, I could just skate around and let my brother Aiden do all the heavy lifting. ”
“An excellent choice,” Sam laughs, wrapping her hands together.
I speak into her earpiece again. “Ask him about his superstition with the red tape on his fingers.”
“And a final one: What is the superstition behind the red-taped fingers?” She smiles, waiting for his answer.
His smile is crooked as he looks down and grins to himself. He sways, as if he doesn’t know if he wants to let the world in on his secrets. He looks back at her. “No one’s ever asked me that.”
“Based on your reaction, it looks like there’s a good meaning behind it.”
“Well, I started taping my fingers in high school, and it was usually white. But the red …” He pauses and licks his lips, grinning as he stares off, as if reminiscing.
“There was a girl I met in college who worked for the campus media station. The day I met her on the sidelines, she was wearing a red sweater. I used red tape on my fingers that day and won the game, and I haven’t used anything other than red tape since. ”
“And I bet you haven’t stopped thinking about the girl.”
“Never.”
My chest rises as I gasp and cover my mouth. I remember the day I met Aston. It was my first day at the station and my first time working a sideline. I wore red that day. I guess some moments in your life are impossible to forget.
“Aston, thank you so much for sitting down with us and sharing a glimpse inside your life. Best of luck against Archie and the Cowboys this Sunday.”
“Thank you, Sam. Appreciate it,” Aston says as we cut the tape.
“And we’re clear. Great run, everyone.”
The red light on the camera goes out, and the room fills with the noise of the crew members shifting gears.
Sam unclips her mic, stands, and gives Aston a warm, brief hug. “You were great. Tell your parents I said hello.”
“Will do, Sam. Thanks.” He smiles.
“I’m going to take a quick break while we set for Brody Vaughn,” she says as she walks to me, leaning in closely. “His endurance on the field might be fine, Eva, but his focus during an interview is entirely dependent on where you’re standing.”
Before I can shoot back a response, she’s already out the door.
I unclip my headset, tossing it onto a cart, and sort the papers on my clipboard, trying to act like I’m not tracking his every move.
A shadow falls over me, his woodsy cologne filling my space. I look up and see him standing on the other side of the cart, his hands loosely tucked into the pockets of his pants.
“An ‘iron-fisted field producer,’ huh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I set the papers I need for the next interview on the cart. “I think you overestimate my authority, Fifty-Four.”
“Nah, I think I got it just right, Carrington,” he counters, a slow, flirty smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He steps around the cart, bringing him closer, his voice dropping in the way that makes my pulse spike. “You look good, Eva.”
“I look like I’ve been working since six a.m., Aston,” I say, trying to sound unaffected, but I’m sure I can’t hide the pink in my cheeks. “But thank you. You don’t look bad yourself. I’ll make sure the editors cut the parts where you looked shocked by Sam’s questions.”
“I wasn’t shocked, really. All in good fun,” he says softly, his eyes falling to my lips for a lingering second before moving back to mine.
The teasing is gone, replaced by a hesitancy, like he had on the field a few weeks ago.
“So, listen, I’m glad you were here today. I wasn’t sure if you would be or not.”
“Definitely here. Part of the job.” I smile softly this time. Damn his gorgeous face.
His jaw tightens a fraction, his eyes narrowing as he assesses my demeanor.
“Right,” he says. “Part of the job.”
“Yep.” I smile and set my clipboard down.
“Okay then.” He leans in closer, the flirty charm sliding back into place.
“Since we’re both adults and you’re completely unbothered by the mistake I made a few months ago, let me take you to lunch.
There’s a little diner about five minutes from here.
No cameras or people that’ll bother us. I’d really like a chance to talk to you alone. ”
My stomach flips, but I force a cool smile. “I can’t. I have to get Sam through the interview with Brody, then review the footage with the editing team and set up the production schedule for the next segment this afternoon.”
Aston lets out a low, disappointed sigh, but the smirk on his face tells me he’s not about to give up. “Another time then?”
I take a step toward the door, my eyes locked on his as I let a wicked smile spread across my face. I tilt my head, letting the silence stretch between us.
“Maybe.” I flirt back in challenge. “If you’re lucky.”
Aston’s eyes flare, a grin breaking across his face. “You know, Carrington, I’ve always been pretty lucky.”
“We’ll see,” I call over my shoulder as I walk out of the room. But the minute I round the corner, my shoulders drop. I lean my back against the wall, letting out a long, shaky breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My heart is hammering, and my skin feels hot.
This is what this man does to me. I know I won’t be able to say no the next time he asks me out.
I close my eyes for a second and see his stupid, hot face in my head. Six more games on his sidelines.
My head is still spinning when I push off the wall and make my way to the restroom to splash some water on my face.
I’m playing a dangerous game with a man who could very easily devour me whole and make me lose all sense.
And I think I’ll love every minute of it.
Fuck.