“Or,” Derek drawled, “he’s just secretly obsessed and doesn’t know what to do with it.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just stared out the window at the endless stretch of road, the frozen landscape rushing past in a blur of gray and brown. January in the Midwest wasn’t exactly charming.
It was none of their business.
What Daphne and I had—or didn’t have—was for the press, for the league, for damage control.
Fake.
All of it.
Except…
Except she’d smiled at me the other night. A real one. Wide, surprised, soft at the corners. Not the polite smile she gave other people. Not the smug one she wore when she was trying to get under my skin.
That one had been for me. And I’d felt it like a punch to the ribs.
I leaned my head back against the seat, eyes closing.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her smile. Or the way her laugh caught when someone made a bad joke. Or the way she’d looked in that damn shirt, candlelight catching in her hair like fire.
She wasn’t what I expected.
That was what kept throwing me.
She was mouthy, sure. She pushed. But she also listened when it mattered. She noticed things—small things, like when Asher didn’t like being in the middle seat or when Adam’s knee stiffened after too many flights.
She paid attention. To people. To me.
And now she was traveling with us. Embedded for this away game. Which meant she’d be at the hotel. At the pitch. In the spaces where I usually got to disappear.
Another complication.
I should’ve told her no. Shut it down early. But one look at her when she said she’d be coming and I didn’t say a damn thing.
The guys behind me kept talking—shifting to fantasy stats or whatever game they were playing on their phones. I tuned them out.
Because the truth was… I didn’t have an answer.
Were we together?
No.
Was it fake?
Yes.
But her smile had felt real.
And that scared the hell out of me.
My phone buzzed in my hand, another message lighting up the screen, this one from Cam.
Push the chemistry a little more. League eyes are on this trip. One cute moment goes a long way.
A second later:
Try not to look like you’re holding her hostage.
