His eyes cut to mine and my heart stops at the surprise in his eyes. He drops my underwear on the bed like they’re on fire. My brain halts. Oh god. This was a colossal mistake and I’ve misjudged the situation entirely. Why did I come here?
For a moment, I think he’s going to yell something likeEw, get out of here,and shoo me out like a rodent Phoebe brought into the house but he?—
Smiles. No,grins. Like this was his plan all along, to get me to his bedroom doorway.
“Busted,” I whisper, pointing at the TV. “Fucking busted.”
“You got me.” He’s still smiling, a little wider now before he winces. “Do you think I’m terrible?”
A laugh slips out of me. “Tate, no. Oh my god. I think you’re normal and if you can believe it, this actually makes you evenmorelikable.”
“Really.” His eyes settle on me, warm and soft.
“Yes. It’s annoying, how likable you are.”
“Huh.” He smiles. “Tell me more about how likable I am.”
I roll my eyes, but again, I’m smiling so stupidly. “And the demon cat has struck again.” I retrieve the panties off the bed. They’re still warm from his hand.
Tate’s eyes follow before he seems to pull his gaze away. “I don’t know how she keeps getting in and out of the house. We keep the doors closed.”
“I don’t know how she keeps getting my underwear out of my drawers. Maybe I should just throw them away and go without.”
His expression blanches. “No.”
Something rises in me—the urge to mess with him. Ruffle him up. “No?”
“I mean, do whatever you like. I don’t care.”
My mouth is curling into a wicked smile. “That probably wouldn’t be appropriate office attire, though, would it? Going commando.”
His cheekbones are going pink. “Jordan.”
I roll my eyes. “Relax,Coach. I’ll keep my panties on.”
“Good. I mean—” He shakes his head. “You’re diabolical. Pretty on the outside, rotten to the core.”
Warm delight fizzes through me. God, I’m so easy. Tate Ward calls me pretty and I melt like candle wax.
I should leave. I got what I came for and now there’s no reason for me to be here.
“You going to stay and watch the game?” The corner of his mouth tips up and he nudges his head at the spot on the bed beside him. “I mean, if you want to.”
The bed. Where he sleeps. Naked? Maybe. And jerks off, probably. Definitely.
“You should,” he adds, and I want to. “You might see someone you like.”
My lips part. I do see someone I like.
“We still need a third-line center,” he adds, and I nearly choke with humiliation.
In the game, he meant. I might see someone I likein the game. Something dissolves inside me.
Jordan, you dumbass.
“Yeah.” This is a work thing. It’s not sexual. He’s not flirting with me. He didn’t lure me here. Tate Ward doesn’tlureanyone anywhere.
And he said it was never going to happen. He told me he didn’t want to be attracted to me.
