Page 31 of The Last Time

“You’re insane!” Josh says with frustration.

“Actually,” I step in. “He’s right. Your O-line is terrible. You could have all the top receivers in the world, and it wouldn’t matter unless you protect your quarterback and give him time to make a play.”

The group falls silent. Josh looks at me and then back at the guys with confusion.

“She works for the NFL,” Layla says proudly.

Somehow, when a girl knows sports, men look for a reason. Women can’t just enjoy it without drawing attention, which pisses me off, but I’m used to it.

“Is this seat taken?” a familiar voice drifts through the air, causing my skin to break out in instant goosebumps.

When I look up, Asher is standing to my right, looking ridiculously good in his jeans and dark blue shirt. He raises an eyebrow in question when I look at the empty spot next to me and realize he’s talking to me.

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” I say quickly.

His smirk makes me wonder if he knows the effect that he has on me. There’s not much space on the couch. When he takes his seat, our bodies touch from our shoulders all the way down to our legs.

My eyes close on their own accord as my body lets out a shiver.

“You cold?” he whispers in my ear. The heat of his breath is almost too much.

I don’t know how much longer I can take these feelings that his presence evokes. This doesn’t feel like the silly little crush I had on him a decade ago. This feels different.

I distract myself by downing the last of my margaritas and then ask the waitress for another one as soon as she appears.

“Charlotte, I can’t believe you work for the NFL,” Avery says. “That is so cool. How long have you worked there?”

“Three years. I work in the marketing department.”

“Do you get to go to games?” Paul asks with a hint of jealousy.

I chuckle. “Yes, I get to go to games.”

“You got any suite tickets for us this season?” Paul says with a wink.

Asher fidgets next to me, then puts his arm around the back of the couch, encasing me in. “Let’s not try to use Charlotte for her connections the second time we’ve met her. Huh, Paul?”

Paul shrugs his shoulders as if it’s not a big deal.

“How often does that happen to you?” Asher asks me while the others talk amongst themselves.

With his arm around me, our faces seem to be only inches apart. His body is leaning in toward me with no care for my personal space.

It’s distracting.

He’s distracting.

I have to remind myself he asked me a question.

“You mean, do grown-ass men beg me for football tickets regularly?” I say with a smile. “Yes, they do.”

He matches my smile. “That must get annoying.”

“Eh, I’m used to it.”

His eyes study mine. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the longer he looks at me, the more I feel the need to fill the silence.

“I’m surprised you’re here. Where’s Brie?”

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