Page 42 of Drawn to You

When I texted her earlier and told her to dress up for our after-game plans tonight, she took me seriously. She’s wearing a red dress cut to show off her cleavage perfectly. It falls just past her knees, so I take in her shapely calves before I get to her nude low-cut heels. Her black wrap covers her arms and all I can think about is tugging on it and throwing it aside.

Hopefully later.

“You’re dressed perfectly,” I say, offering her my arm.

She wrinkles her nose in confusion. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“I’ll tell you in just a minute.”

I tilt my head in the direction of the exit, and we walk toward it.

“This better not be about my job,” she says in a low tone that carries a note of panic. “Please tell me you aren’t trying to get me a different job. Or to start my own company. I’m not ready for that.”

A few people have glanced at us, and I don’t want to say anything about our plans with anyone else in earshot, so I just shrug.

“You’d be great at it,” I say.

“Where are we going?” she demands, stopping. “If I’m walking into some business pitch session, a) I’m going to put hair remover on your head while you’re sleeping tonight, and b) I need to prepare myself. Which I literally cannot do if I haven’t had any notice.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

She gives me a skeptical look. “I’m not a charity case. If I wanted your help starting a business, I’d ask for it.”

Now I’m getting irritated. There’s a car waiting outside and I’m going to tell her where we’re going as soon as I know no one can hear us talking.

“For fuck’s sake, Josie. I just played twenty-five minutes and I’m starving. Can we go?”

She keeps walking, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looks up at me.

“Good game, by the way,” she says.

“Thanks.”

We won 3–1. I got a pregame boost when I heard the news that Sam Styles broke his ankle when he took a bad fall shooting hoops with teammates.

That bastard deserves two broken ankles and lifelong impotence. He and my ex are equally responsible for what went down between the two of them, but he’s the only one whose ass I can beat.

As soon as we reach the end of the hallway and walk through the double doors toward the player exit, I tell Josie what’s going on.

“We’re going on a practice date.”

“A practice date?”

“Yep. You told Tamara from PR that you’d coach me before my lunch with what’s her name from TikTok.”

“Abigail,” she says wryly. “Her name is Abigail.”

Damn, she looks hot in that dress. Her eye makeup is slightly darker than usual and she’s holding her chin just a little higher. I hope it’s because that dress makes her feel confident. She sure as fuck should feel that way.

“You ready for this, Coach?” I ask her with a grin.

She laughs lightly. “You’re telling me I have one night to make you into a perfect gentleman?”

“Something like that.”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she gives me a sexy smile. An invisible current passes between us. She makes me want to be anything but a perfect gentleman, but I also want her to know she’s special. Not just another random lay.

“Okay, first tip,” she says. “Start out the date with a sincere compliment.”

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