Page 14 of Boarded Hearts

I turn back to Jon. “Does everyone do what you want?”

He cocks his head, eyelids slightly hooded. “I don’t know, Angel, do they?”

I flush, hard. The heat from my cheeks traveling down to my core as I descend into a puddle. I’m thirty-nine years old, not eighteen, and I feel instantly annoyed at my uncontrollable physical reaction to this man.

Get it together, Felicity.

I re-group, taking a sip of my drink to buy me a couple of seconds.

We continue to talk, the conversation flowing with total ease, something I never experienced with Elliott, even in our strongest moments together.

Jon continues to order me drinks, which I accept but feel uncomfortable taking and frequently try to pay for, without success. He asks about my presence at the games, and I tell him about Jack and the season ticket I bought him for his birthday. At the mention of me being a mum and having an older child, he doesn’t flinch, almost like he’d considered that I might be a few, or maybe a good ten, years older than his usual type.

“This all seems a little unfair,” he says as another cocktail is set down in front of me.

“Well, I have offered to buy the last three rounds.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re funny. No, that's not what I’m referring to.”

“I’ve stayed and talked to you, haven’t I?”

He places his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Wow, low blow, Angel.” Leaning closer, his spicy cologne wafts over me, and it’s intoxicating. “First you won’t give me your number, and now we’ve been sitting here talking for hours, yet you still haven’t told me your name.”

Shit. I guess I haven’t. You kind of skip over introductions when it comes to Jon Morgan. Everyone knows him.

“Felicity,” I burst out. “It’s Felicity.”

He leans back in his stool and brings his bottom lip between his teeth. “That’s a really pretty name.”

“It means happiness.”

Jon’s dimples pop as he releases his lip and smiles. “I’d say your parents did a great job of choosing the perfect name.”

At the mention of my parents, I look down at the table. Eight years since their death and it’s still just as raw.

“Do you have family here in Seattle?”

I shake my head. “Only my son, Jack.”

“I’m relieved to hear that was your son at the game. I was worried it might be your boyfriend or something.”

I laugh. “Yeah I don’t go for toyboys.”

He arches a brow. “How old do you think I am?”

“It’s kind of pointless guessing facts about you when every detail’s plastered all over the internet.”

I notice he frowns slightly when he says, “Not every detail.”

I wonder what he means by that; the statement felt loaded. “You're thirty-four,” I respond.

“Been doing some research on me, have you, Felicity?”

The way my name sounds coming from his mouth sends me into a spin and the aching need that’s been simmering within me all night returns tenfold.

I playfully pat his shoulder. “You wish.”

“Babe, we should head out soon. I have an early Pilates class tomorrow, and it's already past midnight,” Kate chimes from across the table.

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