Chapter Five
They walked up to her door, his hand at her lower back, guiding her. The whole ride home, she’d been silent at times, biting her lower lip, not meeting his eyes. At other times, she would talk endlessly about anything—the traffic, the people waiting to cross, hell, even the weather. There was no hiding the fact she was nervous, and he’d attempted to set her mind at ease with a little bit of light humor, but every time he tried, she went right back to fidgeting.
What the hell did she think he was going to do to her?
They were just sharing a bottle of champagne.
Thing was, though, she wanted more—and so did he. He’d seen that flare of excitement in her eyes when he told her he found her undeniably sexy, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She was just too nervous to act on it.
For some reason, tonight, he was, too.
She made him nervous. Him. Wyatt Hamilton.
As she slid her key into the lock, her hands trembled, and he bit back a smile, stepping behind her, making sure to keep his body a safe distance from hers. “You smell like flowers.”
“Yeah, I’m always around them. Sometimes it seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of the scent, so I stopped trying and decided to roll with it.”
“It works for you.” He touched her hair gently.
She let out a ragged breath. “Your cologne works for you, too. And your clothes. Your hair. Your face…”
“My face?” he asked, laughing.
“Yep. Your face.” She skimmed her fingernails up his arm, under his suit jacket. It made his cock harden and swell, and he stepped slightly closer, aching to press against her from behind, yet holding himself back. “And these. Your muscles. They’re working for you, too.”
He chuckled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” With a smile, she fell silent, not opening her door, not pulling away, but not moving closer to him, either.
“Are you going to let me in?”
“Huh?” she asked breathlessly. “Oh. Yeah.”
She opened the door and gestured him inside.
He was a gentleman, so he motioned for her to go first.
Frowning, she motioned for him to go again.
He did the same.
She laughed nervously, rolling her eyes, and dropped her hand. “Fine. You win, I’ll go.”
Grinning, he followed after her, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. “When it comes to duels of stubbornness, I’ll always win. Just ask my brothers.”
“You have brothers?” she asked quietly.
“Yep, three of them, and a sister, too.” As she turned on the lights in her living room, he shifted the bottle of cold champagne to his left hand.
“Are you the baby?”
“Nah.” He smiled. “That’s my sister, Anna. I’m kind of in the middle.”
“The forgotten child,” she joked, tipping her head toward the kitchen in silent invitation.
He snorted, following her. “Not in my family. No one was forgotten, despite the fact that there were five of us.”
When she walked, her hips swayed, and he’d swear she was gracefully floating through the air. Her long blond hair fell down her back in waves, and he knew it felt better in his hands than a brand-new football. She made everything look so easy. So perfect.
“How about you?” he asked, his throat thick and almost choking him.
“Huh?” She pulled out glasses. “Oh. I’m the youngest.”
“Any other siblings?” he asked politely.
“Nope, just the one.”
He nodded, taking the champagne out of the bag and removing the gold foil before working on the cork. She’d picked it after he’d told her to choose whatever she wanted because he was paying for it, and it had been ridiculously cheap. Any other woman he took out would have picked only a top shelf item, but she’d kept it under fifteen dollars.
It had been refreshingly charming and a welcomed change of pace.
Maybe that was why he was here, having the type of personal conversation that he usually avoided, and trying to think of anything to say to make her laugh because she had one hell of a laugh and he needed to hear it as often as possible.
When the top popped, she jumped slightly, holding a hand to her chest and then laughing nervously. “That always gets me,” she said, seemingly half in apology and half in amusement at herself.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted, and she was breathtaking.
“Me, too,” he said, not really thinking about the champagne.
“No, it didn’t. You didn’t even jump.”
No, he hadn’t. But she was making him just as jumpy as her, he was just better at hiding it. It was kind of his job to hide his nerves from his fans and his teammates, who looked to him as a leader.
Without saying anything, he poured them both a glass of bubbling champagne, then handed her the fuller one. Her fingers brushed his, and it took all his control not to let his touch linger even longer. He hadn’t come here to seduce and forget her. He’d come to get to know her. To thank her.
Then he’d leave…without touching her.
Lifting his glass, he said, “To our successes.”
“To our successes.” She clinked her glass against his then lifted it to her pink, lush mouth. He could see the tip of her tongue as she drank. He’d never been so jealous of an inanimate object as he was of her glass right now. After lowering the drink, she licked her lips and asked, “Were you closer to one of your siblings than the others?”
He took a sip, thinking that over. “As kids, Anna or Chris were closest to me, I guess. But now, I’d say I’m closer to the others, and they’re all about equal. I even helped Eric get his girl back a few months ago.”
“How?” she asked, walking into the living room.
He followed her, grabbing the champagne for easy refilling purposes. “Long story short, they were sleeping together and swore not to let it get serious because she was moving. Well, it got serious, and instead of telling her he loved her, he let her leave for Texas because it was ‘the right thing to do.’”
“Wow.” She sat and leaned on her knees, pushing her breasts up. Any other girl, he’d think she did it to entice him, but with her, he doubted it. She seemed completely unaware of her charms, and how easy it would be for her to seduce him if she wanted. “What did you tell him to do?”
After setting the bottle of champagne down on a newspaper, he sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance between them to remind himself that he wasn’t there to get her naked…even though he wanted to. “I told him to stop letting the love of his life leave, and to go win her back. So, he got out of his contract and moved to Texas for her.”
She blinked, her mouth parted. “He did?”
“Yep, left his dream job and everything.”
“He must really love her,” she said slowly.
“I guess so,” he said.
She eyed him. “You’re not big on love?”
How had she figured that out? Was it in his tone? “Love is good.”
“But you don’t want it.”
He shrugged. “I have it. My parents. My siblings. My team. My fans.” He took a sip, then added, “To seek out more is just greedy, and to be honest, I don’t want more.”
She nodded, pursing her lips. “Why not?”
If anyone else asked, he’d give a generic answer, like: too many beautiful people out there to commit to one for the rest of my life. But with her, he wanted to be honest. “I love football. Love the game. The travel. The challenge. The wins. Even the losses. I love everything about it.”
She played with a piece of her hair. “And…?”
“And if I fell in love with someone else, something I don’t even think I’m capable of, then that would take away from the love I have for the game. It would pull me out of it. I’d start to resent the travel, the time away from home, and I’d lose my love for football.” He set his glass down, trying to find the right words to express what he was trying to say. “I’ve seen it happen, time and time again. A player is on a path to MVP, and everyone is buzzing about him, but then he meets a girl, gets married, has kids…and all he wants is to rush home to his family every night. He stops training hard. Stops doubling up on gym time. And slowly but surely, he fades away.”
She set her glass down, too, turning so her leg was folded under her. It made her dress ride up her thigh, something he tried really hard not to notice. He failed. Horribly. “That’s not fair, though. Plenty of good players are married and still on the top of their game.”
“Sure they are.” He shrugged. “But lots aren’t, too, and to be honest, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Of course.” She bit her lip. “So, after you retire…would you be open to the idea of love then?”
“I can’t say I really think about it. I’ve never been one to want someone with me, and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on something because I don’t have a partner at my side.” He twisted his lips. “I’ve never wanted those things. Family. Love. Marriage. I don’t think I ever will.”
“I…I see.” She reached out for her glass, but he hurried to beat her to it and hand it off. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured. “How about you? You want that special someone?”
Licking her lips, she glanced away, her cheeks flushed. “I guess, yeah. I haven’t exactly been out there, dating or anything. It’s been five years since I had a partner, as you called it.”
He drank, taking a moment to reflect on that. “May I ask a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Why so long?” he asked slowly. “What happened?”
“Uh…well, to be honest, it was because of a guy.”
“It’s always because of a guy,” he said drily.
“Yeah, I guess.” She focused on the fireplace, even though it wasn’t lit. He watched her. Her lashes were long and dark. “We started dating in high school. We chose the same college. Made plans. We were going to graduate and move in together, then get engaged after a year. Married a year after that. Kids two years later. Three—two boys and a girl.”
Damn, he’d never sat and planned out his life like that. All he knew was that he wanted to play ball, and he wanted to do it alone. Hell, most of the time he had no clue what he was going to do when he woke up on his days off, let alone for his whole life. “That’s very…precise.”
“I’m not a very impulsive person,” she said, stating the obvious.
“I am. I don’t really plan out things besides plays.”
“I plan everything. Overthink everything. Go through every single scenario and the hundreds of ways it could end before making a choice. I don’t jump into anything. I walk slowly, carefully, and am always ready to back out if needed.”
He nodded, studying her, letting her gather her thoughts.
She smiled sadly. “Ever since he left, I stopped living. I haven’t done anything risky or even slightly adventurous in a very long time.”
The way she said it made him think she was trying to change that. “Why not?”
“Because of him, I guess. And me. And…life.”
He shook his head. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing, really. Like I said, I overthink everything. One day, he just had enough of me thinking all the time.” She bit her lower lip. “He said I was boring him to death, and that if I ever decided to stop overthinking every single thing, to come find him. If I ever decided to step outside of my comfort zone, and maybe decide to be fun for once in my life, then he’d consider taking me back. Until then…he’d be with Becky.”
He winced. “Who’s Becky?”
“Some girl with big boobs and even bigger hair.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Someone who wasn’t afraid to live. So, I decided, then and there, if I was so boring that I could make the man who’d sworn to love me for the rest of my life turn away from me…I just wouldn’t date at all. I’d stay on my own. Take care of myself. And do things my way.”
He shook his head. “The man was clearly a fool. You’re not—”
“Yes, I am. Or, I was.”
“And now?” he asked hesitantly.
“Now I want to live. Right before I met you, I promised that I’d stop hiding behind my past and the asshole who hurt me. I’m ready to move on. To try new things. To get back out there.”
His chest tightened. “As in, dating.”
“Yep. That, and other things.”
The idea of her going out with some faceless dude didn’t sit well with him. The frustration was the same as if he’d just blown a game-winning pass. “What kind of other things?”
“Yoga. Hair. Dancing.” She laughed and held her hand out. “Anything, really. Everything. I want to do it all.”
He eyed her hand. It was so small and dainty. He wanted to find the man who had held that hand, who had broken her heart and then let go of her, and tell him he was a fool. If he were any other man, if he actually wanted to be with someone in the way she deserved, he’d grab that hand right now and hold on as tightly as he could, and he’d never stop. Any man that was lucky enough to call her his should never let go.
Too bad that man couldn’t be him.