Page 45 of A Whole New Trick

My jaw clenches when I remember how stoked I felt when I saw she texted back, only for my excitement to fade when the reply came from someone I didn’t know, telling me I had the wrong number.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt the sting of rejection. I’m a good-looking, professional athlete who rarely puts himself out there and pursues a woman he likes. But when I realized Morgan gave me a fake number, it was a massive blow to my confidence. I thought we’d connected. Hell, we’d shared the most incredible kiss of my life. I was sure that night was the start of something special.

But I was wrong.

Her attitude towards me when our jobs forced us together proved I was right in thinking I’d misinterpreted her interest in me that night.

I feel like an idiot whenever I remember how I laid my cards on the table and told Morgan I’d wanted to meet her for months. I’d been too desperate. It was a turn-off.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan snaps.

There’s one lap left. I’m close to winning, but the ire in her voice yanks my attention away from the game.

Her eyes are narrowed, and her lips are pulled in a deep frown.

I lift a brow. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Her nostrils flare, and she lowers her controller. “I didn’t give you a fake number.”

14

DANE

I stareat the seething brunette. Morgan glares at me as if I just accused her of running over my pet dog.

I wait for her to say something else to explain what the hell she means. She doesn’t.

I take a deep breath and keep my voice even when I say, “Yes, Morgan, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.” She scowls. “Youghosted me.”

It’s my turn to scowl. “Are you joking?”

“No!”

“Yes!” Miles cheers. He punches a victorious fist in the air. “First place, baby!”

“Shut up!” Morgan shouts.

Her brother lowers his arm and glowers at his sister, but his expression morphs into apprehension when he registers her expression.

His eyes bounce between me and her. From the corner of my eye, I see Matthew and Mason do the same.

“What’s going on?” Matthew ends the tense silence that followed his sister’s outburst.

Morgan ignores him. “I waited for you to text me after that night,” she tells me. “You didn’t.”

“I did text you. Or, at least, I tried.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No?” I reach into my pocket and take out my phone. I scroll through the messages, going back months, until I get the ones with the number I thought was Morgan’s.

I open the thread and hold out the phone. “Then explain this.”

She hesitates for a split second before snatching the phone from my hands and reading the messages.

Disbelief wars with shock in her beautiful brown eyes. Her fingers press over the text to reveal the timestamp. Her mouth falls open.

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