I throw a pillow at the connecting door and hear him chuckle. And somehow, I fall asleep thinking about him.
The next morning,I’m sore in places I forgot existed, and I have to wear a high-necked sweater to hide the marks Pattersonleft on my collarbone. Breakfast is awkward, and though we’re on opposite sides of the room, it’s difficult to pretend like the other doesn’t exist.
My dad corners me as I’m refilling my coffee.
“You look tired, sweetheart.”
“Hotel beds.”
He studies me with that coach’s eye, the one that misses nothing. “You’re doing great work on this trip. Dennis called me last night and said the action shots you’ve been sending him are exactly what he wanted for the auction.”
“That’s good to hear,” I say, knowing my dad has a close relationship with him. Dennis is the team's owner.
“He mentioned featuring some of them at the awards ceremony.” Dad takes a sip of his coffee. “You’ll be there, right? I forgot to ask.”
“Of course I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Bringing a date?”
“Dad.”
“I’m just saying. It’s a nice event. Black tie. Might be fun to have someone with you.”
Across the room, Patterson laughs at something Hunter said. A reminder that he’s always there, like a daydream.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“See you at the game tonight.” He heads back toward the coaches’ table, leaving me standing there with my coffee going cold.
The problem is, the only date I want to go to the awards ceremony with is off-limits. He’ll undoubtedly have a gorgeous woman on his arm, playing the part of a charming playboy while I sit alone, stewing in jealousy.
That’s exactly what’s going to happen, and the thought makes me want to throw something.
My luck? He’ll ask Mila.
19
PATTERSON
ONE WEEK LATER
The ballroom at the Plaza is dripping with crystal chandeliers and league money. Tonight, we’re here to honor Coach Hart, even though I can’t stop thinking about his daughter in the most obscene ways. I adjust my bow tie in the mirror near the coat check and remind myself to be on my very best behavior.
It’s been five days since I saw Kendall, and there have been no emojis or late-night meetups. We agreed to figure out what we’re doing, and apparently, what she’s doing is nothing. Part of me wants to see how long she’ll last before she caves. And I’m partially testing myself.
“Everything okay?” Mila asks. “You’re beingweird.”
I roll my eyes at her because that’s the type of relationship we have. I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her through the room, watching different reporters note who’s with me. After overhearing my sister mention Mila on that call, I realize how right she is. I wouldn’t be surprised if the narrative on the drama sites shifts to Mila and me being serious.I’m encouraging it because that will give me more time with Kendall without anyone getting suspicious. It’s believable, and that thought makes me smirk.
Mila’s gorgeous, and on paper, she checks all the boxes of being my type, but she’s too high-maintenance for me. There are no sparks from either side, and because of that, we use each other as a stand-in date when we can’t find anyone else.
Funny that my sister noticed, but if she did, others will too.
“Relax,” she whispers, grabbing my hand and leading me through the crowd. As we wait for a glass of champagne, she leans in close. “You never told me what tonight’s goal is?”
I lick my lips and lean in a little closer. “Jealousy.”
Mila’s eyes flash with intrigue as she glances around. “Really? So far, only I’ve pulled that card. Lucky woman.”
