Page 25 of Lucky Shot

“So I take it that’s a no?” I joke and then make sure my gaze doesn’t dip down again.

Her smile is reticent. “I was trying to be nice. Would you rather me tell you I don’t want to be anywhere near you? Because I can say that if that’s easier for you to comprehend.”

“Look. This has all been in good fun.” I hold my hands up, but it doesn’t look like she’s buying it. “I apologize. I’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll take pictures. Maybe run a few drills. That kind of—”

“Like I said, don’t bother. I don’t want you there.”

“Well, it seems to me it should be about what the kids want. Not what you want, right?” I cave and take another glance at her glorious body. “All for the kids or some shit like that?”

“Kids are the biggest bullshit detectors on the face of the earth. They’d see through you in a heartbeat.”

“And what would they see?”

It’s her turn to size me up and fuck if I’m not basking in her glory. “A man running on ego, who allows that to overshadow his talent. An athlete who takes for granted how his status might inspire others. A guy afraid he just pissed off his owners, the leagues he plays in, his fans, because he fucked up again, but this time it’s affecting their image too and not just his reputation.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and shakes her head. Every one of her barbs hit me like an arrow on a target. “And a player who thinks if he shows up and does the bare minimum, he might get laid.”

I bark out a laugh. Damn. “You don’t hold any punches, do you?”

“For the record, it takes a lot more than just showing up to get laid.” Her flash of a smile is defiant and devious. Both are a turn-on. “No one will be getting laid here. First, you’re not my type. Second, you’re mildly annoying. And third, the arrogance is a turn off.”

“No, it’s not.” I grin. “And I’m everybody’s type. If I weren’t, you would have already marched on out of here.”

“Jesus. You’re something else.”

I flash a panty-melting grin. “Then that makes us quite the pair, doesn’t it?” I pause for emphasis and to let her look a little longer. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“What?” I ask.

“Why are you showing up tomorrow? Because you have to save face with your buddies over there? Because you want to see if we’re reputable or not? Because you need to ease your guilt? I don’t care about any of those so save it. I’ll use your guilt money to help the kids, and I’ll curse you personally despite spending every penny of it.” She glances at Suri and then back to me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I don’t know what possesses me, but I grab her arm as she walks by so that she curls into me. I’m immediately met with the scent of her perfume and the tickle of her long, dark blond hair as it flies with the action. Bloody hell. I notice there are gold flecks in the greens of her irises as her breath hitches and her chest brushes against mine.

If I thought she’d be fazed like I am at the connection, I’d be wrong. Rather, Whitney lifts her eyebrows and looks at me like I’m the bane of her existence.

I love it.

“Let me add some legitimacy to your academy,” I murmur, even though I don’t care in the least about her academy, nor do I have time to commit to something like that.

“Excuse me?” She laughs and shrugs out of my grasp like that little thrill that just shot down my spine didn’t do the same to her. “Respectfully? Eat shit, Hardy.”

“Are you always this hostile?” I don’t even fight my grin anymore.

“Only around certified pricks like you.”

“Good thing you’ll be seeing more of me,” I call after her as she walks off.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever floats your boat,” she says over her shoulder as I watch her walk away—again.

Her indifference is . . . infuriating. Intriguing. It’s everything I’ve always despised from my mum and Monty, but when it’s from her? It challenges me. What would it be like to be the object of all that fire and fervor?

I’ll be there tomorrow. No fucking doubt I will.

If only to simply see how that makes me feel.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hardy