Page 33 of Undeniable

“I am. I just started a varsity coaching position at one of the private schools around here.”

He nodded and folded his napkin into his lap. “And you played too?” There was no missing the confused and surprised lilt in his voice, but I did my best to ignore it.

“Yeah, I played all four years of college up in Wisconsin.”

“What position?”

“Setter.”

He nodded again, like that small piece of information was all he needed to know about the situation.

“Why? Don’t believe me?” I joked, but he only returned a half-hearted smile.

“You’re a little short compared to most of the volleyball players I know.”

He wasn’t wrong. At a little over five and a half feet tall, I was shorter than the average female volleyball player. But that didn’t mean much with the way I played.

“You’re right, I am. But I jump just as high as someone several inches taller than me.”

“Jumped,” he clarified as the waiter set two waters in front of us and promised to be back with our cocktails. “Not so much anymore, right?”

He winked like we were in on the joke together. But my stomach somersaulted.

“Yeah, well, once you hit thirty, things change.”

“For some of us, they do,” he remarked. And the waiter returned with our drinks and a basket of bread and butter for the table.

Across the table, I tried to meet his eyes, but he was too intent on his menu. I couldn’t have been imagining all the innuendo, but then again, maybe I was.

My stomach growled so loudly that Derek heard it over the classical music and rustle of other restaurant patrons. I laughed it off and eyed the bread.

“I haven’t eaten all day. We had an early practice this morning and a scrimmage this afternoon. Then I had a shift at the bar, so I came straight here from there, actually.”

We’d discussed on the stupid dating app and then over text that I’d recently moved to Austin and was working part-time at Murphy’s for the time being. Over the phone, that fact didn’t seem to bother him, but the moment I added that I’d been at the bar, his expression soured.

Deciding on the lasagna, I closed my menu and reached for a piece of bread. The restaurant was dark, mostly illuminated by candles on each table and the odd, muted overhead light, so I couldn’t be sure what he was frowning at.

I chewed my bite of bread, then asked, “And you’re in sales?” I remembered discussing his job, but I couldn’t remember the smaller details.

He sipped his vodka slowly, placed his menu near the edge of the table, and leaned back in his chair before responding. “Yes, mostly. I’m more of an entrepreneur. I don’t like being tied down by any one project.”

The laugh that escaped me was completely unintentional, and I knew for sure that time that he was frowning at me.

“I’m so sorry, that was rude.”

“I usually take pride when I make a woman laugh, but I’m not sure what about my businesses and career are funny.”

I shook my head and tried to contain my smile. “I… well…” I tried and then decided honesty was likely the best option. I’d already decided we weren’t compatible, so what the hell ever. “Most of the time when women hear that a man is an‘entrepreneur,’we automatically know that is almost always code for unemployed.”

His jaw flexed and his grip on his drink tightened. “I am employed. I’m not sure what other men say, but I have several lucrative businesses and upcoming projects.”

I nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes, of course you do. What kind of businesses?”

He seemed to settle at my curiosity, sitting back in his chair and peering around the restaurant.

“Well, I’m currently working on an idea for a new type of gym. It’s all technology-based, so you wear these bracelets, which keep track of all your stats, like how many calories you burn or how many steps you take. You compete against the other people taking the class and get credits toward future classes the more you improve.”

Our waiter returned before I could slip and say that the idea for a“new type of gym”sounded oddly reminiscent of workout classes I’d participated in over the years.

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