Page 29 of Floored

"My brother was a professional football player in the States."

I choked on my water.

She kept going as if I hadn't. "He won a championship actually. And now he's the defensive coordinator for the same team."

I rubbed at my chest. "What now?"

Lia shook her head. "I could've explained that better. I'm sorry. I'm more nervous than I thought I'd be."

As carefully as I could, I set the water down, my mind spinning with the strange turn of events.

"I'm telling you because I didn't want you to think I was just ... making fun of soccer for the hell of it. I really don't understand it, and that's not an excuse, but my entire life was centered around Logan's job." Her fingers, long and graceful, started picking at the label on the bottle. "Football, American football, is what I watched every single weekend for my entire life. I grew up watching game film with him while I did my homework at night. I grew up knowing defensive schemes and depth charts and what the spread of each game was, and that was my life because he raised me and my sisters."

Her lips, pink and soft, moved with careful precision as she spoke, and I got the sense she'd practiced every word of what she was telling me right now. The light from the garden caught the side of her face and the length of her neck, and all I could do was stare.

In my silence, she kept speaking. "So basically, I'm trying to apologize if I was rude at the bar for what I said. I know I haven't been here long, but y'all are really protective of your football, and I shouldn't have said it was boring." Her eyes searched mine. "Or the thing I said about flopping on the ground. That was rude too."

Maybe I'd invited Lia because I would've cut my arm off to sleep with her again, but with every word, she dug a strange foothold somewhere behind my chest. If what she said was true—and there was no reason it wasn't—I managed to stumble upon a woman who would know precisely what the insanity of my life could be like. She'd understand every facet because even though the sports were different and the culture was different, there were very few people who didn't play who genuinely realized the level of dedication it took to do what I did. She'd appreciate why I'd bleed myself dry for the game.

I walked closer, and she sucked in a breath at my sudden nearness.

My hands reached out, stilling hers where they fidgeted with the bottle. Her fingers were ice cold.

Lia tilted her chin up. She was taller tonight, probably wearing different shoes, and I found that I very much wanted to see how easily I could kiss her from this angle. I wanted to boost her up onto my kitchen counter and step between her legs so I could press as closely as possible.

I barely knew her. Why did I feel like I did?

"Why are you so nervous?" I asked.

"Well, there's the whole I'm in a stranger’s house thing, and I still don't know for sure you won't murder me and hide my body."

I grinned, coasting my hands up her arms, then dragging them back down again. "So suspicious."

Lia swallowed, eyes huge on my face. "Are you going to do those things?"

"I wasn't planning to, no."

"Good." While she may not have been touching me back, she allowed me to slide my fingers between hers. The drag of my skin on hers, which was far softer, far smoother, felt dirty somehow. Like we were naked, like we were already in bed. Judging by the flush on her cheeks, she felt it too. "You're not like ... secretly married or something, right?"

My smile was slow. "No wife, no girlfriend."

"Do you like animals?"

"Depends on which kind. Dogs, yes. Cats, sometimes, if they're not trying to claw my eyes out. I have a complicated relationship with sheep because I was raised on a sheep farm. I think fish are pointless, and I am out of my mind terrified of horses."

Lia laughed softly. What was she looking for, as those bottomless eyes searched my face? She looked so serious. What a change from the fiery girl at the pub, pushing and pushing my buttons, simply because she sensed that I enjoyed having them pushed.

I liked her. It was a strange realization to have in the wake of knowing how much I wanted her. But I did. I liked her. I liked that she was asking me simple questions, and that she was sweet to my housekeeper. I even liked the flat way she said her vowels in her American accent.

Her fingers curled tightly around mine, like she was afraid I'd pull away.

That was when I heard myself say, "I play professional football."

Lia's lips curled up at the edges. "I know."

I blinked. "Did you know the night we met?"

She shook her head. "You showed up on my news app when I was in Haworth. When I saw your picture, I dropped my phone on the floor."

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