Besides, it’s not like I have anywhere better to be. The party scene hasn’t exactly been bumping since we moved down to Florida. And the guys who used to blow me up on Friday night have gone pretty quiet since my suspension.
So instead, I shower and suit up for the evening. Nerves zing through me as I struggle to button my shirt, my fingers clumsy.
Damn. This is worse than game day. I never have this much trouble with pads.
Leaning close to the mirror, I adjust my tie and fix the knot. A spritz of cologne and a quick comb through my hair, and I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.
Three hours in a tux next to Tori Prince stone-cold sober, schmoozing donors and pretending to give a damn.
What’s not to love.
I collapse on the sofa and wait for the warden to show.
Two minutes to six, there’s a polite knock on the door.
Tap, tap, tap.
Nothing like the pounding the other times she’s showed up here.
Inhaling, I force myself from the couch and shrug into my jacket. I hesitate for a second, mentally adjusting my attitude. Both of us need tonight to go very, very right.
For the team. And for ourselves.
I repeat my game day mantra:You’ve got this, Steele. You’re the best out there. No one’s better.
Damn straight.
Squaring my shoulders, I open the door ready for battle. I’ll have a quick comeback to whatever snide remark the scowling Ice Queen throws my way.
Instead, I freeze like some dumb sap in a fucking rom-com. Heart pounding, my mind goes totally blank.
All I can do is stare at Tori.
She’s stunning in a floor-length satin jade green dress that clings to her curves. Dark hair falls in waves over her bare shoulders, and an emerald necklace that probably cost more than my first contract bonus accentuates the long, delicate lines of her neck. She’s giving old Hollywood glamour meets socialite and I can’t stop staring at her deep scarlet lips.
I’m in trouble.
“Wow.” I swallow hard over the lump in my throat, barely choking out the word.
She eyes me up and down through long, dark lashes. “You clean up pretty good yourself, Steele. Ready to go?”
I nod, shutting the condo door behind me.
“Knox is waiting downstairs. He’s our driver tonight.”
“A perk of having multiple babysitters, I guess.”
The elevator doors slide open and I hit the button for the lobby. I’m acutely aware of her body, only inches away from mine in the small space. I shove my hand in my pocket and try to distract myself from the tingling in my fingers, itching to reach out and touch her.
Bad idea.
Especially after our fight on the beach this afternoon.
No, I’ll stick to the script and play my role tonight. She’s right. The sooner all this is behind us, the better.
With a dull thud, the elevator stops and we head out to the parking lot. The sun’s already gone for the day, a half moon shining in the denim blue sky. Knox sits behind the wheel of a black Cadillac Escalade and Bishop hops out, opening the door for Tori. He offers his hand and helps her into the car, and I stand there, an overdressed, useless accessory. I’m not accustomed to having chaperones on my dates.
Date.
