Page 88 of Hard to Handle

I’m going to break every record in your name, because I know you already would have.

I’m trying to be the star for both of us before one or both of us burn out. “You can’t go yet, J. Don’t go until I finish the job you asked me to finish. Don’t leave me yet.”

When I rise from the bleachers half an hour later, I don’t have all the answers, but I have more determination and clarity.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

DEKKER

“HEY.”

Hunter stops midstride and glances over to my car where I’ve pulled up beside him. “Go away, Dekk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I keep driving slowly beside him as he keeps walking.

“Just what it sounds like. I don’t want what you’re selling.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not offering anything,” I mutter. “We need to talk about the other night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, still refusing to look my way.

“There’s not?” There’s a whole host of shit we need to talk about.

“Nope.”

Nope? What the hell? I slam the rental car into park, hop out, and jog up beside him, but he still refuses to look my way.

“Hunter? What the hell?” I grab his arm and he turns on me with confusion and anger etched in the lines of his face.

“You’re wasting my time, Kincade. I’ve got practice to get to. You know, my job. I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve just been throwing myself into perfecting my game. As an agent, you should appreciate that in a client.”

His smile is tight and his words are cutting.

“I do, but I also know avoidance when I see it.”

“What am I avoiding?” he asks and takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest, throwing the ball back in my court and of course now that he has, I just stare at him.

Answer the question honestly and sound like a needy female. Lie and sound like a flustering idiot.

“Me.” I choose honesty and feel so stupid saying it, but it’s true, and it’s better if we face this now rather than later.

“Bullshit,” he sneers.

“You’re not avoiding me?” I ask on the defensive.

“Nope. Don’t think so highly of yourself. I have a Cup to win. I have a team to lead. I have consequences if I let them all down.”

“You’ve always had a Cup to win.” I take a step toward him as he takes one back. “I don’t under—Hunter, talk to me.”

“About what? How we got drunk. How we had a laugh or two. Then how we fucked.” He throws his arms out to his sides and raises his voice. “Just like old times, huh? No harm, no foul—mistake made and realized until the next time.”

His words should hurt, but for some reason, they don’t. Maybe it’s because it’s been two days since we slept together and this is the first time I’ve been able to actually talk. It’s been two days of overthinking and wondering if the sex was just sex or blowing it out of proportion to second-guess every nuance of his and wonder if there could be more. But now that I’m standing here, he’s made it clear what the answer is, and I’m not exactly sure what to say.

“I—I just thought we should talk about it.”

His chuckle is raw and brutal. “About what? The snow angels? The shit I said in the bar? Or someone seeing us together?”

“Because it could affect my job.”