Page 21 of Play for Keeps

“I didn’t say that,” he corrected with heartening speed. “I’ll admit I wouldn’t be zipping out to Reno for the quick fix if this hadn’t happened, but I think we both knew we weren’t going to last much longer.”

Genuinely curious, Millie felt compelled to pry. After all, the man had left his taste in her mouth, then kicked her to the curb. Almost literally. She figured she was entitled to a little nonprofessionally motivated probing if she wasn’t going to get the kind of probing that made spending a night in a hotel room so much more enjoyable. “Why do you think?”

His laugh rang hollow, even over the phone. “Oh, I don’t know…a lack of any common ground, maybe?”

“You had to have something in common at one time. You married her.”

Ty paused, then said, “I’d like to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment.”

“Ah.” She grinned, pleased by the surprising candor of his nonanswer. “Combustible, huh?” She waited a beat. “Did I put enough emphasis on the bust part? I hate when I fall…flat.”

This time, his chuckle was for real. “You crack me up.”

Sinking into the pillows, she stared at the muted television without really seeing the screen. “How’d you meet her? Your typical sideline romance? You made up a play, and she let you touch her pom-poms?”

“Actually, we met in class.”

The answer would have shocked her right out of her smarty-pants, if she had been wearing any pants. “Class?”

“Yes. When I wasn’t busy populating the world with illegitimate children or buying another set of ten-carat studs for my ears, I was in class.”

“And here I thought I had you pigeonholed. Go ahead, shatter more of my illusions.”

“When I went back to Eastern to work with Coach Washington, I decided to finish my undergrad degree.”

“Because you went into the NBA early.”

“Not that early compared to some, but I did need to complete my senior year.”

“I think it’s great you did. Let me guess, kinesiology major?”

“Funny,” he deadpanned.

The entire athletic department knew Millie loved making jabs at the jocks and their preferred fields of study, but she was no longer surprised when football players told her about their biochemistry classes. Acknowledging the scope of study the degree entailed didn’t stop her from making fun of those who chose the major, but it did change the tenor of her teasing.

“When I left school, it might have been something along those lines,” Ty admitted, jerking her from her ruminations. “But when I finished, I ended up with a degree in psychology.”

“Huh.”

“Then I went on to do some postgraduate work in psychology. Emphasis in sports psychology, of course,” he added with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Brains, beauty, and brawn,” she murmured. “I guess you had to screw up somewhere.”

“I’m not particularly lucky in love.” The gruff admission sent a shiver racing through her. “But thanks for saying I’m pretty. I feel so much better now.”

“You met in class,” she prompted.

“I was doing a little time as a teaching assistant. Psych 101. She was making up a couple of missed general studies courses before graduation.” The words were cut off by a too-perky-for-the-hour voice making a flight announcement. “The professor and the coed. A tale as old as time,” he said brusquely. “I have to go. We’re boarding.”

Reluctant to give in to the demands of the airlines, she blurted out the one thought running through her brain like a hamster on a wheel. “This isn’t at all how I envisioned tonight.”

She heard his breath hitch. “I think we can save some conversations for another night.”

A hot blush scalded her cheeks and set the tips of her ears aflame. Between the tomato face, the decidedly unsexy nightwear, and her now air-dried and uncombed hair, she was damn glad he hadn’t thought to try a video chat. “No.”

“Yes,” he countered. The background noise became more pronounced, and she figured he’d left the VIP lounge. His breathing became choppy. “Good night, Millie. Think about me.”

She closed her eyes and tried not to groan. Those huffy, little puffs in her ear were doing something to her. Something she hadn’t packed the equipment to handle, even though she knew his sense of honor wouldn’t allow anything to happen between them. Yet. Damn wishful thinking. “A pretty good bet.”

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