It’s funny; parts of this feel so familiar, and parts of it feel so new that it’s throwing me for a loop.

After the picnic lunch, and the almost kiss, Paxton packs all of the empty containers and blanket into the backpack he’s brought and throws it on his back.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He lifts his big, lean body, offering me a hand once he’s standing.

Is it bad that my stomach flutters when he pulls me up, his muscled arm acting as if I weigh about two pounds? It reminds of the time we had sex, him holding me up against the wall and impaling—

“You okay?” Pax looks at me, his eyes happy and bright.

I can’t help but blush. Do you think he knows what I was just thinking about? “Yep, I’m fine.”

My voice is a bit high, but we start to walk. There is an unsettled tension between us since I told him he couldn’t kiss me, but he seems to have taken it with a grain of salt and moved right past it. Just like that, he’d pulled back and kept his hands to himself, a pure gentleman move. I wasn’t used to it, not from Paxton Shaw.

I also wasn’t used to him wanting to kiss me in broad daylight, in front of people. I was trained to expect stolen glances, midnight texts, anything but sweetness and asking for permission. This reserved, polite man is a new version of a person I used to hate … so could I hate him still?

I was so conflicted that I almost miss Paxton stopping mid-stride and asking me a question.

“Want some?” Pax points to an Italian ice vendor, and I nod, always in the mood for a sweet treat.

We walk over together, wait in line behind a cute family with their infant daughter, the cherry ice dribbling down her chin as her mom tries to feed it to her.

“I’ll take a blueberry please, and the lady will have …?” Pax pauses, his wallet open as he waits for my answer.

“I’ll have cherry, thanks.”

We get our water ice and keep walking, the sweetness cooling me down after sweat pooled in my bra at having this man almost kiss me.

Pax looks over at me, about to say something, when a silly smile breaks out on his mouth. “You have …”

He points at my chin, and I self-consciously swipe at it. “What? Did I get some on me?”

Laughing, he keeps pointing. “You didn’t get it.”

“Get it!” I giggle, not wanting it to drip onto my shirt.

Pax reaches out, his thumb expertly wiping my skin. Pinpricks of lust tingle down my spine, and I bite back a sigh. “See, this is another instance where I would kiss you if I had your permission.”

I smile, this situation significantly less laden with sexual tension than when we were on the blanket. “You just really want to kiss me, huh?”

“Yes,” he answers immediately.

I have to laugh. “How do you even know it will be any good?”

Pax cocks an eyebrow. “I think we’ve had enough practice for me to know that it would be pretty spectacular.”

I concede, his hand pulling away once more. I miss the heat of his fingers. “Okay, fine, I think you have me there.”

“Now stop taunting me and eat your Italian ice,” he huffs, jokingly.

“Stop being a horndog,” I counter.

“So, since I’ve seen you, tell me, what has been the most exciting adventure you’ve been on?” He completely changes the subject.

“Slick, trying to move away from the awkward sexual pink elephant in the room.” I tip my head to him, as if there were a hat on it. “But I’ll bite. I went to Israel with my parents last year for Rosh Hashanah. It was incredible. I mean, I’ve been before, it’s my favorite place on earth, but going during the high holy days was … I don’t even have words for it.”

He seems genuinely interested in what I’m saying. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s awesome. I’d love to float in the Dead Sea. Or is that a tourist trap?”

I chuckle. “I mean, it is a tourist trap, but it’s a totally cool tourist trap. The mud makes your skin feel amazing afterward, and you literally cannot sit up in the water. It’s hard to put your feet on the sea floor, that’s how buoyant the human body is in that water. You feel … weightless. Some people think it’s hokey, but I found it … freeing. When I went, I walked miles down the beach, to a spot where almost no one was, and floated for about an hour.”

We sit on a bench, our treats all but gone. “That sounds very relaxing.”

“Better than any spa treatment I’ve ever had. But it’s not just that, Israelis have this outlook on life that is just so different from ours. Meals last hours, sometimes days. They’re jovial and celebratory, but fiercely serious on sacred days. It’s just … a different world. And one that I love to be a part of as often as I can be.”

Pax nods, and I find myself wanting to know what he’s been up to. “How about you? Lots of Vegas trips and flashy nightclubs?”

He frowns, more at himself than me. “Nope. My best adventure, if you can even call it that, was two years ago when my brother and I rented a house on Lake Michigan for three weeks in the off-season. We just fished and had bonfires in the backyard, listened to country music, drank beers. It was a total dudefest in the middle of nowhere, and it was the best time of my life.”

I was surprised. I thought he would have said Monaco or Cancun. But instead, he’d detailed a bonding trip with his brother that sounded as modest as a church mouse.

“That sounds great, very relaxing … but a lot less low-key than I remember you being.”

He nods, the sun going down in the sky as the time passes. “Well, you have a lot to relearn about me. I liked that trip because I was with family, and it was just simple. No press, no expectations, no fancy suits or need to be on. Now that retirement is on the horizon, that’s what I’m looking forward to the most.”

“Retirement? You’re so young.” I was confused.

Paxton smiles. “I find it refreshing that you still know nothing about sports. Anyways, I’m yesterday’s news. A geezer in the eyes of the league. And I’m not going to be one of those athletes who keeps chugging along, even though he and the whole world knows he’s washed up. So, this is my last year. But don’t tell the press, they’ll be all over me like white on rice.”

I pretend to lock my lips and throw away the key. “I won’t say a thing. Or let anyone know how many corny metaphors you use.”

Pax rolls his eyes, but those full lips tip up.

“So, this is it, huh? And what’s next? It’s not like you ever need to work again. And I’m not saying that to find out how much you make, I know it’s enough that you can afford to donate half a million dollars to Ryan’s chemo unit at the children’s hospital.”

Yeah, I knew about his donation. Ryan’s mother had called me to thank me for introducing Pax into their lives, and she’d told me what he’d done for the hospital that her son had his treatment at. He’d made it without a peep to my company, or the media, or anyone else. That was true giving, and it was one of the reasons why I was giving him a second chance.

He ignores my comment, choosing not to even brag a little about his donation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. For so long, my life has been go, go, go. The next workout, the next game, the next season. I’ve starved myself, binged on protein, worked my muscles to the brink, done interviews until my cheeks hurt from fake smiling. I think, honestly, I’m just going to be happy to have some solitary time to myself.”

I nod, because I understood that. “Alone time is some of my favorite time. I hope you can find that after this season is over.”

“Well, I didn’t say I wanted to be completely alone.” In a risky move, and without asking, Pax laces his fingers through mine as we walk back toward the parking lot bordering the park.

“I thought you were going to ask my permission.” I don’t pull my hand away though.

He shrugs, his fingers in mine feeling like the best thing in the world at this moment. “If I didn’t push you a bit, I’d be stuck in the friend zone for the next however many years and this old geezer doesn’t have that kind of time.”

I rolled my eyes for the thousandth time on this date, but shifted my hand so that it nestled closer to his. And I didn’t let go until he opened my car door and told me good night.