Page 21 of Free Agent

Looked him in the face.

And made a snap decision.

“I think you should join me,” I said, forcing the words out before I could think myself around it. “In the room I’m going to get.”

He sat back, eyes wide. “Oh.”

“Oh?” I asked, face instantly going hot. “That’s all the response I get after inviting you to my room?”

“I just…” He sat forward, meeting my gaze. “I didn’t realize we were on that type of time.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re telling me sex wasn’t the end game for… this?” I asked, gesturing between us.

“Rori… you were on the verge of tears when we ran into each other. Sex was not even a little bit on my mind.”

“Wow. Uh… okay.” I nodded, hoping I didn’t look as flustered as I felt. “This is embarrassing, even for a woman whose fiancé very publicly has a girlfriend. So… um… I’m just gonna?—”

I was already sliding out of the booth when he stopped me, reaching across the table to grab my hand.

“Wait, hold up. Why is it embarrassing?” he asked, and I let out a huff.

Brow furrowed, I asked, “You’re kidding, right? There’s a whole list of reasons it’s embarrassing to not only assume someone wants to fuck you, but to find out they actually don’t because they declined your offer to do exactly that, while being engaged to someone else.”

Tatum chuckled. “Baby, you’ve gotta slow down. I didn’t deny either of those things.”

“What things?”

“Wanting to fuck you, or the opportunity to fuck you.”

I squinted. “But you said?—”

“That it wasn’t my end game,” he finished for me. “I saw you at the game, reacted to you being fine as shit, and that was it. I saw you rush up to the valet stand, I decided to make a comment, thinking that would be it. I saw you were upset, seemed like you could use a conversation, and I was heading somewhere I’m banned from anyway, so… lending an ear seemed like a better use of my time. And that was all I planned to do.”

“But… the plans have changed?”

“I’d say they have.”

He was so relaxed.

His grip on my wrist had lightened, to the point that he was really just touching, not holding. There was zero tension in his shoulders, his tone.

Meanwhile, my stomach was in knots.

So I resorted to more questions.

“If you wanted to sleep with me… why weren’t you trying?” I asked, sinking back into my seat.

“Aside from the fact that you made sure I knew you were wearing an engagement ring?” he chuckled, reminding me of my behavior at the game. “There’s your point about us being strangers to take into account as well, but most importantly… I’m not ruled by my dick. Anymore,” he added, still chuckling.

“Those reasons aren’t valid anymore?”

“They are. I just… how do I say this… ah! A therapist once told me that I have a ‘reckless sense of justice’. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Okay. Why are you inviting me to your room for sex? Why is that an option for you, with an engagement ring on your finger?”

I looked down at the jewelry in question, shrugged. “Because my fiancé has made it abundantly clear that the ring doesn’t mean anything. I think at some point, I have to listen.”

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