Page 21 of Gossip Game

“Only temporarily. I didn’t want you to get caught with me in your room.”

His breath hitched. He hadn’t even considered that.

“I came back later,” she continued. “With scones.”

The roaring was back in his ears, but this time it had nothing to do with passion.

“I overheard you talking to your teammates.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

He wracked his brain, trying to recall exactly what he’d said. It wouldn’t paint him in a good light, that was for sure. But he’d been angry. He’d felt betrayed by her disappearance. Christ. He was an idiot.

“You heard that?” he pushed out through the Sahara Desert that was his mouth.

Her chin wobbled a bit, then she nodded. This conversation was costing her, but still she soldiered on.

“Charlotte—” he choked out.

She held up a hand. “No worries. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And with you, I’m ‘not even close.’”

Had her words been fists, they would have hit him squarely in the jaw.

“Goodbye, Noah. Have a great season. You deserve it.”

With that, she slipped out the exit door. It took Noah a moment to pick up his balls from the floor and stagger after her. One of her bodyguards was already closing the door to a black SUV by the time he made it outside.

Let her go, he heard his father’s voice say to his subconscious. You need to focus on Sunday’s game.

He was still breathing hard when the SUV drove away. No wonder she’d looked straight through him all these years. All because his ego had taken a blow when he woke up to find her gone. He kicked at the ground, scattering pebbles into the air.

His father was right, though. Noah couldn’t afford the distraction of a sexy mouth and come-hither blue eyes, no matter how much guilt he was carrying. Not when his career was on the line. If he continued to be a pariah in the media or stink up the playing field, his days were numbered with the Blaze. And very likely all of football.

And, as much as his body wanted to argue differently, Charlotte Davis was too complicated, too sophisticated, too much of a whirling dervish to fit into the quiet life he needed to concentrate on staying in the game. Now all he needed was a long, cold shower to convince his body of that fact. He stormed toward the valet stand at the front of the restaurant, grateful when he saw the paps had dispersed for the evening.

SEVEN

“We are on TV again!” Grayson waved at the crowd as he jumped up and down.

Sure enough, the television monitor inside the owner’s suite at the Blaze stadium displayed a shot of the skybox and its occupants for the fourth time in the first half. Every time Noah completed a pass, or in this case, a touchdown, the cameras panned this way. The crowd roared its approval when the Blaze kicker sent the ball through the uprights for the extra point.

Charlotte clapped enthusiastically along with them. She was happy to see the Blaze—and Noah—playing so well. She was not happy that the network kept zooming in on her.

She slumped back down into her seat beside Sophie Osbourne. The young woman had the audacity to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” Charlotte ground out through the smile she kept plastered on her face just in case the cameras panned back to them.

“Oh, come on.” Sophie elbowed her. “At least the media isn’t crucifying him anymore.”

Charlotte gestured to the field. “Because he’s playing brilliantly. I have nothing to do with it. I swear, the media sensationalizes everything. It’s obnoxious.”

“Well, maybe you two should stop giving them sexy videos to use as click-bait.”

Sophie swiped through her phone, sighing when she pulled up the video someone in the bar shot the other night. It featured Noah tucking her hair behind her ear. The stupid clip was all over social media. Charlotte hated having the private moment invaded, much less micro-analyzed by sports reports and the average Joe.

“That is an incredibly romantic gesture for two people who are just friends.” Sophie said the last two words in a sing-song voice.

It was romantic.

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