Page 39 of The Red-Hot Stakes

Liam sighed, sounding affronted. “Don’t tell me you don’t like cherries either.”

“Sorry. Not a fan.” I shrugged in the face of his glare. “More for you?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” He snatched it up, popping it into his mouth. “Delicious.”

Some of the whip cream was stained pink, and I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose, wondering if I should just eat it. I carefully scraped it up. “Want my cherry-tainted whip cream, too?”

He blinked. “Yeah, that just sounded dirty.”

I laughed as he reached for the spoon. When his tongue flicking out to lick off the cream, my laughter died. Entranced, I wondered what else he could do with that tongue.

“Delicious. Thanks for sharing.” He handed me back my spoon, startling me out of my daydreams.

I retreated to the safety of my shake. The first sip was heaven, so thick I could barely get it through the straw. I scooped up more whip cream, this time without the cherry juice, licking it off the spoon.

Liam made a strangled noise, and I glanced over to find his darkened eyes on me. It seemed I wasn’t the only one having dirty thoughts. Our food interrupted any further scandalous behavior. Sally set my mile-high burger in front of me, and an even bigger one in front of Liam.

“You two enjoy.”

“How am I supposed to eat this?” I could barely get my hands around it.

Liam picked his up in his massive hands and chomped down. “Like that,” he mumbled around the mouthful.

“Just because you have a big mouth.” I smooshed mine down as best I could, then took a bite. It was a good burger.

Chapter Ten

We ate in silence for several moments before I ventured into the murky waters of conversation. “So, did you play football? You’ve mentioned a couple times going to school and football together, but all past tense. Did something happen?”

Some of the light went out of him, and he set down his burger as he finished chewing. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he sighed. “Yeah, I was kind of a big deal for a while. Since you don’t follow sports, I’m not surprised you didn’t hear about me, but I even had a few fan clubs.”

His smile was close-lipped, and he wouldn’t meet my stare. “I grew up with a football in my hands. Instead of sleeping with a teddy bear, that’s what I snuggled with at night. I was fast, too. I could catch anything they threw at me, so they made me a running back.”

He swirled his straw around his shake, the whip cream disappearing into the rich chocolate. “We won state the three years I was on Varsity in high school. Scouts from all over came out to watch me play, offering me scholarships, but I chose to stay here and be with my friends.” He shrugged.

“I got a full ride.” He stared at the wall, his gaze harsh and unseeing. “Me, Liam Davenport, son of one of the wealthiest couples in the area. I got a full ride.”

The guilt dripping from his words made me want to wince on his behalf.

“I’d been in the spotlight in high school, popular because of football and who my parents were. But coming here? Playing college ball?” He shook his head. “It was like being a god. Women throwing themselves at me, companies begging me to endorse their products, students buying me drinks every time I went out.”

I could tell he was back there, seeing it all happen again, like it was yesterday instead of three years ago. A wistful air clung to him, tinged with regret.

“Then, boom, one wrong hit to my knee, and it was all gone. I didn’t even finish my second season.” His jaw clenched, and he scooted out of the booth. “Excuse me.”

I watched him walk away, wishing I hadn’t said anything, but at the same time, happy I knew that about him. It filled in some of the gaps. When he came back, he stayed quiet, and so did I. I studied him as he dunked a fry in ketchup before shoving it absently in his mouth.

I needed to bring him back from the funk the memories had pulled him into. An idea popped into my head, and I acted before I could second-guess myself. I found a small fry, tossing it at his shoulder.

It hit him square on, and he jerked his head up, startled. I kept my attention on my plate, acting like nothing had happened. He stared for a long moment before going back to eating. As soon as his gaze left me, I threw another fry, this time hitting his forehead, and I couldn’t help a snort.

But I still tried to act innocent.

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?” I asked, sipping on my shake.

The beginnings of a smile played on his lips. Then his focus went back to his plate, and I threw another fry. Only for him to catch me red-handed. “Ha!”

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