“Uh ...?”
“Your pupils.That ball hit you pretty hard.You might want to go to urgent care and get your head checked out, but you look all right to me.”Ian shrugged, then added, “Not that I’m a professional.”
“Oh.”Sparkling small talk, there.“Um, my name’s Sam.”
Ian looked smirky, but held out a hand for him to shake.“Ian.”
“Yeah, I caught that.Um, you know ...”The blood started pounding in Sam’s ears.Was he really doing this?He pretty much had to; it was the job of any successful romance protagonist.Sam wanted to be a successful romance protagonist, especially in this particular plotline.“Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee or something?Kind of a thank you.”
Saying thank you with coffee.All the best heroes did it.
Ian eyed Sam, suddenly cautious.“What makes you think I’d be into a date with a guy?”
The click.“Oh, uh ...Straight guys don’t usually realize when I’m, you know, um ...when I’m checking them out.”Sam waved at Ian’s naked, sculpted, hairy chest.Yum.“Or they get all, you know ...”Sam bared his teeth and faux-growled instead of continuing.
You aresucha dork.
“True that.”Ian looked away from Sam, crossing his arms over his chest.Oooh, veiny forearms, and biceps like citrus fruits.Sam stared, and Ian finally said in a low voice, “Listen, kid, you’re not really my type.Sorry, but ...”He shrugged.
Sam’s stomach bottomed out.He couldn’t quite meet Ian’s eyes.“Oh, that’s not—I mean, I didn’t figure I was, just ...I really wanted to say thank you.”Jesus, getting shot down was excruciating.It had never happened to him before.Probably because he’d never asked anyone out before.
It was unlikely he would in the future, either, based on this experience.
“There, you said it.You’re welcome.Now go get checked out.And don’t forget your book.”Ian looked back down on the ground, where the impression of Sam was still fresh in the grass.His romance novel lay about where his heart had been.
Sam felt his face go redder.He bent over and snatched up the book, tucking it into his jacket.“Thanks,” he mumbled, not looking at Ian.Shot down and humiliated.Twice.
Ian laughed shortly.It wasn’t a mean laugh, exactly.Just a sardonic one.“You’re welcome.Go on, Sam.”My name, he said my name.“And stay off the field from now on, okay?”
Sam watched him walk off.He only meant it to be a glance, but Ian’s back was mesmerizing.Yeah, he was sexy, but his skin was a mass of shiny smooth splotches mixed in with swirling scar tissue below his shoulder blades, all the way down, disappearing into his jeans.Three or four different shades of pink and tan.Parallel to his spine just above the small of his back was an incision scar.Dark brown and graphic, maybe five inches long.
Oh!My Highlander’s been wounded.A scarred man, looking for the one person who can help his heart heal.
Sam caught himself before he clutched his chest from the angst of it all.He was a fool.A geeky, not-very-attractive fool.A too-tall twink of a fool who didn’t get the time of day from hot muscle bears.If he were cute and small and blond (as opposed to towering, underweight, and bland), maybe Ian would want to tie him up and have his way.But Sam wasn’t.
He looked down sadly at his book, then covered the heroine’s face and most of her cleavage with his thumb and gazed at the Highlander beside her.He seemed so two-dimensional.
Duh.
Just you and me, buddy.You’re all the Highlander I’m gonna get.
“Hey, kid!”someone shouted.“Get the hell off the field!”
Dammit.
Ian wasn’t into pale, weak guys.Guys with no muscles and too-long, shaggy, wispy hair and blond eyelashes that disappeared unless they were in full sunlight.Long, coltish legs didn’t do it for him, either.The fuckwerecoltish legs, anyway?Other than too damn skinny.
Ian liked muscular, barrel-chested, built-like-a-fireplug guys.With dark hair and a five o’clock shadow at 10 a.m.
Most importantly, he liked guys who were shorter than him.
Didn’t he?
He shook his head at the memory of the kid making that awkward come-on.Maybe Ian had shot him down kind of hard, but you had to be cruel to be kind.And hell, he didn’t have time to try to figure this out, he had too much other stuff to work on.
Tierney calling out to him brought his attention back to the present.He broke into a jog to get back into the game.
Weird how he could still feel the imprint of the kid’s hand in his.
