“Are you sure you trust me? I’m pretty sure I have a black thumb.”
“If they die, I’ll send you an invoice.” I laugh.
“What do I need to do?”
I give Nick instructions on moving the plants from one pot to another, and watch as he transfers the first one. “You’re good at this,” I tell him.
“My pops is a teacher. If I didn’t pay attention, he would’ve grounded me.”
I bark out a laugh at that, tending to my own red ruby plant. “I can’t even imagine you not paying attention.”
Nick gives me a sly smile. “I was always the Goody-Two-Shoes in class because of it. I never wanted to misbehave and draw attention to myself.”
“I can only imagine how sweet you were back then.”
Being with Nick like this is easy. Too easy. Watching him as he works is mesmerizing. The way his hands dig into the soil. The strength in them. How long and perfectly thick his fingers are.
I wonder what they’d feel like inside of me?
God, who knew gardening could be such a turn-on?
“Why gardening?” Nick asks, pulling my attention away from his hands and the dirty spiraling of my thoughts.
I blow out a breath. “My mom loved it. It’s one of the things I still do to keep her close. It helps me turn my brain off when I come home. If I don’t spend all my time with them, they aren’t going to fault me.”
“You talk like they’re people.”
I run a thumb and forefinger over the green and white leaves of the snow queen plant in front of me. It was always one of her favorites, and I love having it around. Almost like it’s a piece of her here with me.
“I like to think they all have certain personalities. My mom seemed to think so.”
“You miss her.”
I nod, not looking at Nick. “I do.”
It’s a well-known fact that my mother died when I was young. It seems every time a news story is done on me, they highlight that part of my life. How it shaped me into the woman I am now.
It’s hard to talk about it sometimes, losing her to a sudden illness when I was so young. Even now, with Nick here, I want to tell him, but I don’t feel like I can open up that part of me. Not without carving out my heart.
Nick’s hand closes over mine. Shifting my attention, I see his eyes are on me. Only a few inches of space separate the two of us.
I can see dark brown specks in those blue eyes of his. A small smattering of freckles on his cheeks. The one curl of hair that falls over his forehead.
It sends a multitude of different sensations through me now, pushing out the feelings of sadness.
Desire.
Heat.
Want.
I ache in the best way for this man. This man that is off-limits because he’s my player and over a decade younger than I am.
Is it against the rules? No. But in the court of public opinion, it wouldn’t matter. The optics would be terrible for the team.
The team is my life, and it has to come first.
Always.
