The nerves plaguing Reesa fell away as Marc introduced her to his teammates. She'd purposely not let him into her apartment when he'd come to pick her up, and she'd avoided any contact, including holding hands. She didn't want to encourage Marc to make a move, and he already seemed excited as he continuously ogled her. Secretly, she preened at his attention and apparent approval. After all, she'd spent a pretty penny on the sparkly leggings, the fitted blue sweater that came to mid-thigh, and the Nikes that matched. And she'd spent more time than usual getting her hair straightened this morning and making sure her makeup was flawless.

She told herself it was more to impress a crowd than just for Marc, and it seemed to work. Everyone from the players to the coach to the reporters took notice of her. Reesa wasn’t used to that, but it definitely helped her ego. Marc didn’t seem to have a problem with it, either, though his hand finally settled at the small of her back, almost possessively, as he walked her up to the press box, where she’d have the best vantage point for the game.

“If you need anything, you can ask Ted,” he told her, introducing her to the media coordinator. “Ted, this is Reesa, the special guest I told you about.”

Ted was probably in his early fifties, with dark hair graying at the temples in a neat, short style and a grin that deepened the lines around his eyes. He was thin and fit with a strong handshake, and Reesa took an instant liking to him. “Welcome, Reesa. We’re glad to have you. I’m going to call down and have a bottle of wine brought up with some fruit and cheese and crackers. Would that work for you?”

Reesa had never attended a live sports event and was so giddy she didn’t know if she could eat, but she smiled graciously and nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”

Marc’s hand on her arm drew her attention, and she turned to raise an eyebrow at him. His gaze was heated as he stepped closer, speaking in a low tone meant only for her ears. “Don’t get too friendly with Ted. He’s a flirt, and I might get jealous.” He punctuated his words with a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth, and then he hurried off to get ready to play.

While she knew he didn’t speak with any sort of malice, something about Marc’s words rang an alarm in Reesa’s head, and she hugged herself against a sudden chill. She didn’t like the idea of a man being overly possessive, and it bothered her. Then again, maybe it was just her past haunting her. Reesa shook it off. It wasn’t like she intended to get involved with Marc, and she wanted to have a good time.

Once the tray of goodies and wine arrived, and the game was underway, her concern was forgotten, and she lost herself in the joy of the afternoon. The Sounders won the game, 4-1, and Ted had an intern named Paul escort her down to the locker room, where she waited in the small lobby outside, refusing to enter the sacred room of male bonding. She didn’t need her senses assaulted by the mingling sweat of three dozen men and the view of most of them barely clad, if at all.

Mostly, she knew she might make a fool of herself if she happened to catch sight of Marc fresh out of the shower.

When the door opened, she looked up expectantly, but it was Jordan Dennison who walked through the door rather than Marc. He smiled, his long blond locks still tousled from toweling them and his skin ruddy from the exertion on the field and likely very hot water. He walked over and took a seat next to her. “You know, Marc’s never brought anyone – family, friend, or woman – to a game before. You must have gotten under his skin.”

When she met him briefly earlier, Reesa hadn’t caught Jordan’s Australian accent, but it was thick, and it took her a moment to shift her focus to his words instead. She scowled. “I doubt he’s never brought anyone. I mean, have the two of you been on the same team for every game of his career?”

Jordan chuckled. “Actually, yes. I predate him by a year and might retire after next season. I may not have made a big name like he has, but I’ve been an asset here long enough that they’ve let me stick around.” He grew serious. “You haven’t known my mate very long.”

Reesa didn’t know where this conversation would lead, but she felt a sense of dread as she nodded. “Only a few days. We sort of met by accident, and we spent a couple of hours together.”

“Do I need to worry about you hurting him?” Jordan asked, every inch of his body tense, as if ready to spring at her if she gave him any reason to doubt.

Gazing at him with wide eyes, she told him, “It’s not like that. This is casual, for both of us.” How else could she describe it? She wasn’t invested in the idea of a relationship, and as Jordan had pointed out, she and Marc had only just met. Marc hadn’t had time to think that far ahead. “But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t hurt people, and I certainly don’t want to hurt Marc.”

He stared at her intensely, and she fought not to squirm under his scrutiny. Then, he laughed, his entire countenance changing in an instant. “Of course not. You’re a good woman, I can tell.” He stood, and despite his broad grin, his blue eyes held a warning. “But I know my mate, and he’s not the sort of person to be casual about anything.”

With that, he left the room, and Reesa again felt that chill creep down her back. She should keep her guard up when it came to Marc. She’d been fooled once and suffered the consequences. She wouldn’t let herself end up in that position again.

Marc came into the lobby then, just on the heels of Jordan’s departure, and despite all her misgivings, she couldn’t feel suspicious in his presence. She also couldn’t help but swallow hard at the image he presented, his skin and hair still damp, his shirt thrown over his arm so his chest was still bare for her to appreciate. His jeans hung low on his hips, giving her a glimpse of the deep lines that led in a V to more intimate parts of him.

Did his eyes twinkle and his chest puff out a little? Could he sense her reaction as her nipples puckered and hardened inside her bra? Or maybe he could smell her arousal as she grew a bit damp between her thighs. He stepped directly in front of her and reached down, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet so barely an inch remained between them. She held her breath, knowing that inhaling too deeply would cause her to brush against the hard expanse of his chest, and she balled her hands into fists at her side to keep from reaching up to toy with the thin smattering of hair.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, searching her face.

“Very much,” she answered honestly, smiling in relief. Questions she could handle. “You played well.”

“I do my best, whether the game counts toward the season or not. That’s how our team does things.” He nodded toward the door. “I saw Jordan leaving. He wasn’t rude, was he? He can be a bit intense and standoffish.”

Intense was an understatement, but he certainly had no problem addressing her. “No, he stopped to talk for a minute before he left,” Reesa told him, trying to sound lighthearted about it.

“Good.” He backed up and pulled on his shirt, much to her relief, though an image of his muscles and the deep lines that accented them were already burned into her brain. “So, have you made your mind up about dinner?”

Ten minutes ago, she’d thought about a nice evening on the town. Five minutes ago, she’d been ready to run and hide from him. Now…everything kept changing, and suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to end their time together just yet, especially convinced that she had to cut it off after today. That made her less than willing to share his attention with the world, wanting to pretend all this was real and that she was normal, could have a normal date.

Determined to get the most out of this one last adventure, she asked, “How would you feel about coming over to my place? We can pick up some pretty great Chinese food downstairs and bring it up.”

Marc’s pupils dilated, and his gaze strolled up and down her body. “Reesa, it’s not nice to test a man’s control. I promised to be a gentleman—“

“And if you break that promise, I know how to throw you out,” she told him firmly. “You said I could have anything I wanted, right? I want to invite you over into the comfort of my home, where we can relax and talk and maybe watch a movie.”

“I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my evening,” he said, taking her hand firmly and guiding her out of the room. If she was making a mistake, it was too late to back out now. Reesa was a strong woman, and she could handle any situation like an adult. Whatever happened for the rest of the evening, she could deal with the consequences. Even if saying goodbye later left her wishing things could be different.