Dammit.
Quickly, I bend, trying to ignore that he’s bending with me, reaching for the tablet before I can grab it. He lifts it, presses it into my hands, and I know he’s reading my nerves completely wrong when he says, “You’re going to be fine, Red.”
Red. His nickname for me. Something that never fails to send butterflies through my middle.
And add in that gentle? To most, he’s not a gentle man. But I’ve seen glimpses of that soft, that gentle, that nice streak…and it’s my kryptonite.
Which is why I’m unable to move, staring at him even though I know I’m going to be fine out there on the bench tonight.
Sure I have nerves.
But I’m qualified and capable.
The guys like and respect me.
I’ve paid my dues.
I just…have the weight of female representation sitting on my shouldersandthe hots for my boss.
No big deal.
Because as of a few days ago, I have the job I’ve always dreamed of.
And because ofthat,the man I’ve always dreamed of has become untouchable.
Something I remind myself of then and there.
I need to focus on what’s ahead, not lament about what I can’t have.
“I know I’ll be fine.”
Because I have to be.
The arena’s full of fans—I can already hear the sounds of the crowd, even from our position in the bowels of the arena.
I straighten my shoulders, lift my chin, and turn to go.
But the moment I reach for the door handle, Damon is infront of me, those blue eyes blazing. “You know I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think you were up for it.”
I don’t know that.
I mean, I do.
But I don’t and?—
“Joey,” he says, settling his hands on my shoulders, crouching a little to hold my gaze. “You’re up for this.”
Gentle again.
And, goddammit, my heart can’t take this.
Grumpy, demanding, bordering on the edge of asshole Damon, I can deal with.
Sexy, brooding, taciturn Damon, I can handle.
But sweet, gentle Damon with the encouraging words?
Nope.
