Page 69 of Her Football Star Ex

“Oh.” She blinked, seeming surprised. “You don’t mind?”

“No.” And to prove my point, I pulled out my phone. “I’ll text him right now.”

So I texted the guy who had fixed my truck the last time I’d had problems after practice. He responded immediately and said he’d have it towed to his shop and get to work on it first thing in the morning.

“There,” I said, putting my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. “It’s taken care of.”

“Wow,” she said, her tone surprised. “That was fast.”

I shrugged. “Sometimes it helps to play for the Dragons.”

“I guess so,” she said, seeming relieved. “Is it okay if I get a ride home with you?”

“Of course,” I said. “And I can just pick you up in the afternoon and drive you back here.”

“But won’t that be weird?” She gave me a wary look. “With your date and all? I don’t exactly think she’d appreciate having your ex-wife along as a third wheel.”

I smiled as I imagined what she was saying. That would definitely be weird. Especially since I’d been set up with Chelsea Stockton’s sister and didn’t really know anything about her personality.

So I said, “We don’t need to worry about that. She lives in Denver so I can pick her up after we pick up your car.”

“Okay, cool.” She looked like she wanted to say something more, but then seemed to rethink it and buckled her seatbelt instead.

After buckling my own seatbelt, I handed her the bag with the jumper cables. “Would you mind putting that in the compartment beneath you?”

“Sure.” And when she took it from me, her fingers brushed against mine. Our eyes met briefly, and I wondered if she had felt the same spark of electricity that I had.

But she looked away the next moment and put the cables away.

I cleared my throat and pulled out of my parking spot to get on the road.

“So you and that Landon guy seemed to really hit it off,” I said stupidly before realizing the last thing I wanted to talk about was her interactions with another man.

She looked at me with narrowed eyes, like she was surprised I was bringing it up. Then she said, “He’s nice.”

Nice.

What was that supposed to mean?

Was she into him?

Were they planning to hang out with each other at the wedding?

“He seemed pretty smitten with you,” I offered, hoping she’d give me more insight into what she thought about him aside from him being nice. But when I glanced sideways to get a read on how she felt about my comment, her expression was just neutral.

After a short pause, she said, “I think he was just being nice.”

“I doubt that.”

She angled toward me. “You don’t think a man and a woman can ever just talk without it having to mean anything?”

“When that woman is as beautiful as you, no.”

I hadn’t meant to say that either, but there it was, hanging in the air.

I grabbed the steering wheel tighter as I waited for her reaction. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get after me for the compliment. I didn’t want to mess up the good thing we had going so far this evening after all the uncomfortable interactions over the past month.

When she sat up straighter, a coy smile on her lips, I loosened my grip a little. “So, you think I look okay tonight?”

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