I groaned under my breath, hating that my body reacted to him before my brain could shut it down. “Do you think this is funny?”
He chuckled, walked over to his locker to grab a clean shirt, and held it out. “Do you mind looking away for a minute so I can get dressed?” He paused. “Unless you want a peek.”
I scowled. I couldn’t believe I actually had to interview this jerk over the next few weeks. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”
“Relax,” he said dryly. “I was kidding.”
“Well, it’s not funny.”
I spun around and stared at a blank wall. My face burned at the sound of rustling fabric behind me. I closed my eyes, forcing myself not to think of him naked. But with every second that ticked by, my pulse would pound harder and harder.
When he slammed his locker and told me it was safe to turn around I was relieved to see him with clothes on.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself I was here for work. If I wanted things to go well, I needed to smooth over some of this tension. It felt as though I was losing control of the situation, and that never sat well with me.
“Listen, I’m sorry for catching you off guard. I realized I needed your signature before we can get started.”
Nate stared at me for a beat, and I swear the temperature in the room went up about fifty degrees.
“You came all the way back here just to get my signature?” His eyes dropped to the manila envelope. “You know, you could have just emailed me, right?”
“You’re right. I could have, but then you could have ignored it.”
He chuckled. “That’s smart thinking.”
“I wasn’t giving you a chance to blow me off.”
“You don’t mess around, do you?”
“I can’t afford to.”
This wasn’t usually how I conducted interviews. The truth was, this article could make or break my reporting career, so I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. This wasn’t the type of journalism I wanted to do forever, but Daphene didn’t give me this assignment because it was easy. She gave it to me so I could demonstrate that I was capable of reporting more than just game notes and postgame questions.
He took the envelope and started poring over the document. “Gotta pen?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” I nodded and dug a pen out of my bag and handed it to him.
His fingers brushed against mine, and the hint of something in his eyes caught me off guard.
I watched as his thumb traced over the edges of the papers. Every little sound made my pulse hum louder. His movements were unhurried. I needed him to hurry up, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand here without making it obvious how unsettled I felt.
“Everything looks fine,” he said, scanning over the documents. “Next time, send this to my lawyer first, and no more shower surprises. People could talk, you know. And I have a reputation to protect.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ll do what I can, and maybe you should consider getting dressed beforehand next time.”
He grinned. “Can’t promise that.”
I shifted my weight, feeling satisfied that the paperwork was signed and secured.
“Thank you for signing this, and I’m sorry for interrupting your shower.”
“You caught me at the end. I was done anyway. You’re good.”
I stepped back, forcing a smile into place. “Well, I won’t keep you.”
He lifted a brow. “We’re done?”
“Yeah.” I tilted my head. “Is there anything you want to add?”
