And I needed to remember that.
No matter what happened last night or how I felt during the game, it didn’t change our situation. We’d used each other a couple of times; that was it. No emotions, no feelings. Just sex with no strings.
Too bad standing down here, I felt like a puppet, attached to Damien with so many strings, I couldn’t even control my own movements.
Hadley chuckled at my side. “Of course you should be here. You’re part of our crew. Cam made sure to get you on the list so you could hang with Ollie and me.” She paused, turning to look down the hall where Emilia was chatting with some of the other kids. “I swear, that girl’s going to turn out just like Cam. She’s already begging to join one of the softball leagues with the middle schoolers.”
Before I could answer, the door to the locker room swung open, and I jumped, terrified Damien had come out. God, I needed to get it together, needed to find the best way to put distance back between us. No matter what my heart wanted, I wasn’t ready for anything more. Honestly, the world’s most perfect man could walk in front of me right now, and it would be useless. My heart wasn’t ready to get back out there, not when I was still recovering from my divorce. The last time I'd let my heart call the shots, I’d ended up alone, with nothing to show for the past ten years of my life.
That thought sobered me, and I tucked those pesky little feelings into a tightly locked box. By the time Damien came out of the locker room, my mask was back in place,hiding all the thoughts that had raided my mind over the past few hours.
He ignored everyone else in the room, instead heading straight toward me. Instinct told me to run into his arms, to wrap myself around him and tell him how proud I was of him. But fear rooted me to the spot; I only offered a slight smile. Hadley stepped in between us, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Awesome game, Ramos.”
“Thanks, Hads.” He smiled at her words, but his eyes remained on me. Despite the inches separating us, his gaze was like a caress, cascading down my body until I sensed it in my toes. “Good to see you at a game, Brianna. What did you think?”
Every instinct screamed out for me to praise him, to tell him how mesmerizing he was out on the field. Even after a decade of playing, his joy was evident, even way out in the stands.
Instead, I said, “It was fine. You played well.”
The corner of his lip quirked up, finding my dismissal amusing for some reason. “Guess we have to step our game up. Can’t have our fans saying we’re just playing fine.”
Hadley’s eyes bounced back and forth between us, as if trying to figure out what was going on.Join the club, Hadley. Even though this man had seen me at my most vulnerable, right now, my walls were made of reinforced titanium. I shook my head, turning toward her and edging Damien out of the conversation. Reaching out to hug her, I said, “I’m going to catch up with Ollie. Are you good?”
“Yeah,” Hadley drawled, looking over her shoulder at Damien. His presence still burned at my back, but I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t keep up this act any longer. My mind might be made up about Damien, but therest of my body had a vastly different reaction. The scent of his masculine body wash filled my nose, the heat of his imposing frame pressed against my skin.
I glanced over my shoulder, giving Damien a nod without meeting his gaze. “Good to see you again, Damien.”
“You too, Ms. Sideris,” he responded, his voice taking on that deep tone I loved so much. Shivers scattered along my skin, and from the laugh on his lips, Damien knew exactly how I’d reacted to his words.
By the time I exited the hall, my heartbeat had returned to normal, finally able to take a deep breath now that I was out of Damien’s presence. Our lines were there for a reason—one I needed to remember.
EIGHTEEN
My heels clacked on the marble path as I darted toward Holy Trinity Church. I didn’t even bother looking down at my phone. The lack of people congregating in the gardens already proved I was far later than I’d intended. Freaking alarm.
For thirty-two years of my life, Sundays had always started at church. No matter the illness, the holiday, or other important life event, my mother had one rule: when Sunday morning worship started, your butt better be in that pew.
I sent a silent prayer to all the saints as I snuck in the side entrance, barely bothering to look around before finding my family waiting on the opposite end of the church. After a lifetime of worship at Holy Trinity, the building was an old friend, as familiar as the back of my hand. After all, I’d sat through hundreds of sermons, bored as the priest droned on about sin and redemption. So instead, I memorized the stained glass windows, pretended I was the one decorating the idols and the saints who watched over us. And because church was never a simple affair, I’d hide out in the rafters as my mother socialized,gossiping about the other members of the community with her friends.
But no matter how many times I tried to hide from my mother, she always found me and dragged me back into her world.
As I crossed through the back of the pews, my mother snapped her head around, glaring at me as I tried to make my way through the crowd. Her disapproving frown followed me as I sank into my place next to my older brother, who stared at me with a knowing smirk.
“You better have a good excuse, Bebe. She’s on the warpath already.”
I knocked my elbow into Jason’s side. “You were supposed to cover for me.”
“I tried, but I’m already on her list because her grandchildren have the flu. Apparently, that’s not enough of a reason to keep them home.” He shook his head, probably remembering the time we both had the stomach bug and had to suffer through the hour-long service. He lowered his voice, mimicking my mother’s faded Greek accent. “Worship doesn’t stop because of a little sickness.”
I rolled my eyes but snapped my spine straight when my mother turned to shake her head at me. Nudging Jason, I pulled out my phone, typing in a message without hitting send.
ME: The kids okay?
He nodded. “They’re champs. A couple of days relaxing with fluids, and they should be fine. Ella stayed homewith them, so I have to leave right after to help her out.”
Traitor.
Okay, that might have been unfair. It wasn’t like my brother was abandoning me to the wolves because he felt like it. His kids, Abby and Andrew, were only three and eighteen months, a handful on the best of days. While I loved them dearly, they were exhausting. Whenever I babysat, I spent the next few days trying to rebuild my energy, grateful I worked in upper elementary and not early childhood.
