“Ah, so she’s stubborn,” Sebastian says with a knowing smile. “But that’s exactly your type, isn’t it?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have a type.”
“Sure, you do. Smart, sharp-tongued women who don’t take your shit and make you work for every inch of ground.” He taps something on his tablet, not even looking up. “Remember Vanessa from college?
“That was different.”
“Was it though?” Sebastian glances at me, his expressionannoyingly perceptive. “You’ve always been drawn to women who challenge you.”
I stare out the window at the darkening sky, watching the city lights shrink beneath us. He’s not wrong, but I’m not about to admit it.
“I like that she sees me,” I say finally. “Not the jersey. Not the contract. Just…me.”
Sebastian’s eyes soften slightly. “I’ll admit, that’s rare for people like you and Kill and Hop.”
“Yeah,” I agree quietly. “It is.”
The plane levels, and the seatbelt sign dings off. Around us, guys shift in their seats, some heading to the bathroom, others stretching sore muscles.
“But if I had to guess, she’s equally grateful that you see her for the strong-willed independent woman that she is. You don’t try to change her way of life, and you don’t downplay or dismiss her feelings. Even when she harbors strong negative feelings for your career choice.”
“Yeah, I suppose you may be right. I might tease her a little from time to time but I respect her for the woman she is.”
He turns more toward me, his tablet against his chest. “Tell me something about her that I don’t know.”
A smile immediately appears on my face as I recall our conversation a few nights ago. “She collects teacups.”
“Teacups?” Seb’s brows furrow.
“Chipped teacups to be exact. From thrift stores or antique stores. Places like that. She doesn’t buy new.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “She says they may be a little broken but they still serve a purpose.”
Sebastian nods silently, his eyes narrowing as he considers what I told him about Sutton.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell him with a slight shake of my head. “I already know what you’re thinking.”
She’s a little bit broken.
And hasn’t quite found her purpose yet.
“Just be careful, Shep. She might have a rough exterior but?—”
“I know,” I interrupt, suddenly feeling protective of Sutton in a way I can’t quite explain. “I know she’s guarded. I can see it.”
Sebastian studies me with that clinical gaze he uses on injured players. “I’m only making sure you’re going in with your eyes open. She’s not going to make it easy for you.”
“When have I ever wanted easy?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Us Haynes boys never can resist a challenge.”
“There’s something about her, Seb. The way she talks about those chipped cups like they’re treasures instead of castoffs…”
“You’ve got it bad,” he says, his brows raised. “Worse than I thought.”
I don’t deny it because what would be the point? I know I barely know her, but…he’s right.
