Page 47 of Hard to Score

It’s a silly thought but one that plagues me nonetheless.

“Thank you for letting me in the door.”

“There’s coffee on, if you want any to help wake you up. Or I have shots if you feel the need for more courage.” I wink as that smile of his widens.

“No shots are needed. But coffee? Coffee is always welcome.”

“What time is your flight?” I ask, more than familiar with the out-of-town-game travel schedule.

“In a few hours. I should get home and pack,” he says but makes no movement to do so.

Our fingers link on my knees, and I can’t break my gaze from them. He’s really here, with me. In my bed. And it feels so normal to be talking like this. “Should I be stupid and ask what’s next?”

He’s silent and, when I don’t look at him, he squeezes my fingers until I meet his gaze. His eyes are full of the same hesitant confusion I feel, and it’s comforting to see. “You always did need to have the next ten steps planned out in front of you. Glad to see some things never change.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t. You can’t plan for shit like this, Brex. A chance meeting after all these years. Good chemistry. Incredible sex.” He shrugs, and that shy smile on his lips owns me. “Why don’t we just see where it takes us?”

“Which is . . .”

“Stop.” A soft tug on my hands. “It should be enough for you to know that I didn’t bolt out of here early this morning because I thought things would be awkward. I stayed. I’m here.”

I chew the inside of my lip and nod, realizing that I’m coming off as needy right now. I just don’t want another broken heart. But I can’t say that. I can’t tell him that my planner brain is already those ten steps ahead and wondering what-ifs.

“You did. Sorry. Planner brain, here.”

He tugs on my hands so that I lean forward and when I do, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. The same thing I had wanted to do moments before. To say I don’t swoon when he rests his chin on the top of my head is a lie.

He squeezes me against the firm warmth of his chest. “Quiet that brain of yours, Kincade. If I was going to run, I would have done it while you were still sleeping.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BREXTON

“YOU’RE HERE LATE.”

I glance up from the conference room table where I have contracts laid out in various stages of review to find my dad standing in the doorway. The formidable Kenyon Kincade in the sports management world is also an attentive father and the biggest softie in the world.

“Just catching up on some things.”

“I wasn’t aware you were so busy. Do you need me to have your sisters help some with the load?”

“No. I’m good. With Lennox in London now,” I say mentioning my younger sister who recently made the move across the pond to be with her love, “I’m just trying to wrap up some of her deals and integrate some of her clients into mine.”

“Thank you for helping with that.”

“Of course. She’ll owe me big time.” I grin.

“As in introducing you to some hot British guy type of owe you or something close to that?” He rolls his eyes.

“You catch on quick for an old guy,” I tease.

“Funny.” He glares at me before that smile lights up his face again. “You’re all good then?”

“I am.”

“I can wait for you until you’re done so you’re not alone.” He winks and I offer him a soft smile in return. I’ll never live down the scaredy-cat reputation I had as a kid.