She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “You were so surly and—”
“You’ve met me ahandful of times, how do you know I’m not alwayssurly?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because you’re a pro football player in the making, and the most important thing to you right now, other than football, is image.”
“Wow.” I chuckled low. “You have a really shit opinion of football players.”
Sav laughed, but it held too much bitterness. “No, I don’t. It’s the way of the world. Your eyes are already on the prize of the payday waiting for you, and why shouldn’t they be?” she asked, and there was no malice in the question. “You workhardto get where you are, not just you, before you tell me I’m complimenting you again.” She leveled me with her hard, no-bullshit stare. “Athletes get scholarships to D1 colleges because they worked hard to get there. And in three to four years’ time, it’s time to cash in on that hard work. My opinion of athletes, including football players, isn’t low; it’s well-formed.” She held up her hand. “Playing your best.” She lowered a finger. “Keeping your grades up.” She lowered another finger. “Looking good for yourfanswhile doing it.” Another finger went down. “What else is there?”
I held up my hand with my thumb, pinky, and ring finger down. “Fun and—” I raised an eyebrow — “sex. Lots of it.” I lowered my fingers, happy when she flushed as she broke my stare.
The room became silent for a moment before Savannah regarded me with an assessing look. “Why am I here? No BS, Dante.” She held up her hand. “And don’t even bother saying sex just to fluster me.”
“Me mentioning sex to you flusters you?” My gaze ran over her one more time. “Or does thinking of having sex withme... fluster you?”
“Wh-what?” She looked up at me with her blue eyes wide and her mouth parted in surprise.
Fuck me if I wasn’t tempted to lean forward and take a taste of that perfect pout.
“You’re thinking of me fucking you now, aren’t you?” I watched her regain her composure. Or try to.
She ignored my taunting. “You said we need to talk, and while youdolove the sound of your own voice, you haven’tsaidanything that warrants pulling me out of a dean’s dinner.”
“I’d say we’d covered a lot in such a short time.” I pushed myself back onto my spot on the table, consciously casual.
“They provide chairs for that,” she murmured.
God, she was such a square.
“I’m all the things you think I am,” I told her honestly. My hand came up, checking off the items as I spoke. “Hardworking, football focused, image conscious, fun, and—” I winked — “a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“But?”
“Nobut,” I told her honestly. “You were snooping, and I want to know why.”
“Why?” Her gaze sharpened with curiosity. “What are you scared I overheard?”
“The why and the what don’t matter,” I told her. I’d decided before she got here that truth sprinkled with a whole lot of bullshit and vagueness was the way forward.
“Then what’s the problem?”
She was smart. I needed to remember that.
“I don’t like people being in my business.” I held her attention. “Or repeating what I’ve said in a private conversation.”
“Who would I tell?” she asked, leaning back in her seat. “Maybeyou hijacking my day and my dinner is the only thing that keeps reminding me about it.”
Interesting point. It didn’t fucking matter.
“Maybe,” I said, my lip curling upward. She was so transparent. “Or maybe, you’re a really shit liar, Sav.”
We sat in silence, our gazes locked as we ran routes and passes on how this conversation was going to end.
“I won’t breathe a word of it,” she said finally. I nodded, sliding off the table, ready to leave. “But—”
“Nobut.”
She smiled, and it was sharp with intent, maybe the most genuine smile she’d given me yet.
