That wasn’t being completely fair to myself. Even if the whole Not So Nice List thing wasn’t real, there’s no accounting in this world for eccentric professional athletes. Or for idiots who don’t pick up after themselves.
Mainly the idiots who don’t pick up after themselves.
Cole held out his arms to me, and a part of me wanted to snuggle up beside him. He frowned when I didn’t automatically lean his way. “Last time, I promise. Then we’ll outfit you out with crutches.”
I felt bad that he misunderstood my reluctance. Oh, I wanted to be in his arms, but I wanted to be there for an entirely different reason. I smiled, saying, “I’m just worried about your back.”
“Don’t be,” he said as he scooped me up.
In the light of day, it felt weird to let him carry me around. My arms couldn’t decide how tightly or how loosely to wrap around his neck. He’d showered and smelled as fresh as a daisy. I’d done the quickest of sink baths and didn’t want to think too much about my own status.
He’d wanted to help me get ready, but I’d convinced him I could throw a knit dress over my head and hobble into the bathroom long enough to brush my hair and teeth.
Ever competent, he got me to the doctor and the pharmacy all in the comfort of his Lexus, which was a much nicer car than mine. He insisted on buying lunch for us both and then set me up in the living room to watch television with my foot propped up.
“Do you need me to turn down the volume?” I asked.
“No, I have headphones,” he said as he took a seat at the dining room table.
“Want me to look at the contract?”
“What?”
“You said there was something about the contract that Ezekiel Angelo didn’t like, and I am his number one fan—”
“Ha! I think he’s your number one fan now. He texted this morning to check on you.”
“Really?” My heart contracted. “That’s sweet.” I reached out an arm for the contract.
Cole tilted his head to one side, looking at me as if I were a little nutty. “Youwantto read a contract?”
I shrugged. “What else do I have to do?”
14
Cole
Keeping my eyes on my laptop and away from Aubrey was a chore. I read the digital copy of the contract on my laptop while she read the hard copy. She looked utterly adorable with her lips pursed and her brow furrowed in deep concentration.
The silence between us was rather companionable and a pleasant surprise. Of course, it was also full of electricity—at least on my part. I’d wanted so badly to kiss her last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask, knowing that her foot had to be hurting her.
I’d thought I wanted someone like Deidre. She was professional, poised, and always knew what she wanted and where she was going. Now I had to admit that Aubrey’s propensity to do the unexpected—like play one-on-one in a Christmas dress—was…hot.
Though I felt terrible that she’d hurt herself doing something for me.
Ezekiel Angelo must’ve felt a little remorse, too, because he’d sent a huge bouquet of flowers for her.
Too bad he hadn’t felt enough remorse to sign the damn contract. I was behind on all of my reports, but I needed to figure the contract out first because it was my largest potential commission.
My eyes glazed over. I’d read all of these boring words so many times before.
“A-ha!”
I turned to see a triumphant Aubrey.
“You don’t have a rider in the contract specifying that the players will be announced in alphabetical order.”
“Huh?”
