I cocked my face to the side. “What’s your problem, Mr. Graham?”
“I’m looking at you, your shiny blouse and the way it tents with your luscious breasts, the way it tucks into your skirt, the one that accentuates your waist, and those sexy legs, but I’m seeing more than that.”
“More?”
“I’m seeing beneath all those things to the sexy vixen who had her round ass against me when I woke this morning. It’s totally your fault we were delayed in getting out of bed.”
My cheeks rose. “I’m not complaining.”
“If you have any complaints, you’ll have to take them up with yourself.”
I let out a sigh. “It seems to me that you’re blaming the victim.”
His lips quirked. “Are you a victim?”
“Maybe recipient is a better word.” I pushed up on my toes and peered over his shoulder. “What did you make?”
“Mini frittatas with egg, spinach, onions, peppers, and cheese.”
“I hope you won’t decide to leave me when I gain fifty pounds.”
Fin scoffed. “First off, we’re also feeding me. These are high protein, and second, I believe in equal parts nutrition and exercise.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I poured myself more coffee as Fin set plates with two frittatas a piece at the stools. “Do you have a cup?”
Fin tilted his head toward the coffee mug sitting by the stove. As I added more coffee to his mug, I asked, “Do all men drink coffee black?”
“I don’t know about all men. Real men.”
My laugh bubbled from my throat. “Dad did. Don does. You do.” I thought back over past relationships I’d had. The overwhelming majority of men I knew drank their coffee black. I needed cream, not that powder stuff, real out-of-a-carton cream.
Sitting next to Fin, I took a bite of the frittata. “Delicious.” I made note of his clothing. “Are you practicing today?”
He pressed his lips together. “Lacy said she wanted another scan. My rib will heal but I’ll probably have radiation poisoning.”
I reached for his arm. “You’re going to Nashville no matter what the report says. Troy went with us while he was on the IR. You’re not on the IR.”
He nodded.
“Fin, what is it?”
“Nothing.”
I laid my fork down. “What?”
Exhaling, he turned toward me. “I didn’t want to say anything to you.”
My curiosity was piqued. “About what?”
Fin stood from his stool and lifted his coffee mug. “Simpson said he’d heard a rumor that one of us would be sent to the practice squad soon. Something about too much money on three quarterbacks and financial concerns that no one knew about until Reid was gone.”
My molars came together with excessive force. “Where did Simpson hear that?”
“It was a rumor. You know how rumors are.”
“And you didn’t want to tell me.”
Fin’s nostrils flared. “It seems like cheating that I can come here at night and have direct communication with the owner when other players don’t have that advantage.”
