I cock one eyebrow. “Seriously? I think you know.”
At that, she deflates. Her shoulders slump, her eyes fall to the floor, and she fidgets with the wagon’s handle. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Well, that was easier than I expected. Still, I can’t let it go. “Sorry for what, exactly?”
Those large eyes of hers lift and meet mine, flashing with fire. “Really?” When I don’t respond, she shakes her head and sighs. “I’m sorry for pretending not to recognize you. I… I freaked out.”
“You freaked out?” I ask, taking a step toward her. “Imagine how I felt when the woman who snuck out in the middle of the night showed up in my weight room. A woman I slept with in California. A woman who pretended not to know who I was.”
Blair’s chin lifts at that, and her eyes flash again. “I wasn’t pretending. I had no idea who you were.”
“Bullshit.” I scoff, annoyed at these stupid fucking games. “How in the hell else do you explain you showing up here days later?”
“My terrible fucking luck,” she mumbles so quietly, I almost miss it. She blows out a harsh breath, lifts her chin, and meets my gaze. “I don’t know how to explain any of it. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I went to a club before that night. It was an ill-advised last hurrah before leaving LA. I just wanted to go to one of the clubs my old coworkers always talked about. It was totally out of character for me, and trust me, I learned my lesson.”
“You really expect me to believe that you didn’t know who I was or that our team would be at the club?” It’s all too convenient. She must think I’m an idiot.
“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” Blair says. “It’s the truth, and I have nothing to prove to you. I’m sorry for pretending I didn’t know you, but I was shocked to see you, and I need this job. I absolutely cannot risk it for anything or anyone.” She opens her mouth to say something more when a male voice calls out her name.
“Blair! Hey, Tess asked me to make sure you were okay down here.”
The guy from before. Her coworker. Why is he always in the way? Is this asshole trying to get into Blair’s pants or something?
“Oh, hey, Bryson.” She flashes him a smile, her eyes darting back to me before landing on her coworker. “I’m good. I was just heading back up with the stuff.”
Bryson eyeballs me. “Byrne. Good to see you again.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Same.”
Not.
“Am I interrupting something?” the guy asks, his attention bouncing between Blair and me. She squirms, and a look ofpanic streaks like a lightning strike over her features before she schools her expression into something carefree and easy.
“Nope. I forgot a Sharpie in there. Logan was just bringing it to me.” She turns to me and smiles tightly. “Thanks for that. See you around.”
“Sure,” I say, annoyed that, once again, she’s walking away before we can get to the bottom of this. “See you around.”
Bryson glances between us one last time before offering to take the wagon and chattering away to Blair as they walk back toward the executive suites. He doesn’t notice her glance back at me, but I do. My dick notices, too, because when she bites her full lower lip, I get a semi.
“Not fucking happening,” I hiss at my dick before I head back to the ice where my teammates are still waiting for me.
“Well?” Ryder asks, his eyebrows at his hairline. “What did she say?”
“She said she didn’t know who I was when we met in LA and that she pretended not to know me because she freaked out and didn’t want to lose her job.”
Griffin squints at me. “D’you believe her?”
Do I believe her? How in the hell am I supposed to do that? Sure, coincidences happen, of course they do. But this? Meeting and having some of the best sex of my life in LA, then finding her here, in the Twin Cities of all places, at my job? It’s a pretty epic coincidence.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, man. Not sure how I’m supposed to.”
“If this was all some big plan, do you really think she would have pretended not to recognize you?” Sebastian asks. “I mean, what would be the end goal? If she was trying to get you to date her, don’t you think she’d seduce you, not run away from you?”
Griffin snickers at that. “Yeah, man. Usually if a bunny’s trying to lock you down, she has to want to spend time in your presence.”
“Funny,” I grumble. “Truly hilarious.” But part of me knows they’re probably right. The way Blair has behaved doesn’t make sense if she was trying to lock me down. At the same time, I’ve watched women plot and manipulate their way into my dad’s life so they might get a chance at being Owen Byrne’s next wife. A chance at the money and notoriety, the big house, shiny cars, and expensive jewelry. So many of those women would justhappento bump into him when we were out and about, and even as a kid, I could spot the mercenary bitches a mile away.
It’s difficult to believe this situation with Blair is different.
