He placed the order, and I returned to stalking his socials. “Mimi seems to have moved on.”
“Yeah? Lemme see.” The cushion beside me dipped from his weight, and he leaned in close.
God, he smelled so good. Like the air after a cool spring rain and fresh laundry detergent, plus the hot natural scent of his skin. His body heat must run higher than normal because the man was a damn inferno. All that warmth soaked into me.
“I’m not surprised,” he murmured, studying the picture on the screen. Mimi was on the beach, in a tiny bikini, and hanging on to the arm of a big, tall, buff guy. “She dislikes being alone. And that’s Alexander Monk, the Texas Stars basketball player. He’s more her type.”
“What’s that?”
“Hard partier, hits the clubs every night. Likes to be in the news. Runs his mouth like he plays, fast and dirty. That’s not me.”
“That sounds like how the press reports on you.”
“Like what? Playing dirty? I’ve never been accused of that. I never deliberately set out to hurt anyone on the opposing team. Shit like that pisses me off.” His annoyance was palpable. I could feel him shaking. “It ruins the whole spirit of the game.”
Seeing how upset he was, I rushed to apologize. “No, I meant the partying. I’m—I’m sorry. I just know what I read in the papers. I wasn’t agreeing with it.”
He ran a hand through his thick hair. “As stupid as I’ve behaved in my private life, I’ve never let it interfere with my professional life. And the personal mistakes I made were years ago. I’ll admit to the partying in the off-season.” He shrugged. “I like my company. But the reality is, playing football is all I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s all I know how to do.”
This was a completely different side of Patrick I hadn’t known existed. “I’m sure you did well in school. You had to pass your classes.”
“Barely. I didn’t take school seriously—you know how it is. You’re from a small town, and you get plunked in the middle of a huge university where you don’t know anyone. I went a little wild.” He rubbed his jaw, his eyes distant.
Yeah, I remember.
“Wild how? I thought you weren’t allowed to do that during the season. At least that’s what I learned from Dev and Brody.”
A slight twitch of his lips. “Well, there’s always ways around that. And I was a smartass those days.”
“Was? Or have some things never changed?” I razzed.
“Hey,” he protested. “I resemble that remark.”
We shared a laugh, but I found him staring at my mouth and…I froze. Those blue-green eyes darkened. I recognized that glint in a man’s eye.
Lust.
I couldn’t look away.
Could he sense my desire? How bad I wanted him?
Panic whirled through me. My heartbeat accelerated, and I watched his chest rise and fall rapidly. A flush suffused his cheeks, and his lips parted. The air crackled between us, and I knew if he made even one move, I’d give him everything.
The doorbell rang, startling us.
“I’ll get it.” Grateful for the distraction, I jumped up and practically ran to the door. I let in the man wheeling the cart. “Thanks.”
Patrick had his wallet out and handed the guy a couple of twenties. “Thank you. I’ll call when it needs to be picked up.”
The man smiled. “Thank you very much, sir.” The door closed behind him.
“Okay, let’s dig in. I don’t wanna be late for training camp.” As if nothing odd had occurred only moments before, Patrick began to eat. Obviously, he could turn his emotions on and off easier than I could. I nibbled on a piece of toast, still tangled up in what had almost happened.
Foolish as it was, my brain couldn’t shut off. I couldn’t slip, no matter how badly I wanted Patrick. It had been a while since I’d had the urge for sex—months, in fact. My libido, like my life, had been stuck in neutral. Maybe it was time to find someone to fuck Patrick Sloane out of my head.
We finished our breakfast, and Patrick collected his stuff. I crunched the last of my bacon, wiped my hands, and returned to the iPad.
“I’ll stay here and look at furniture—did you hear anything about your offer? Maybe I should hold off until you know it’s accepted and you get the apartment.”
