Page 58 of Playoff

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I can’t risk it. This is my career, how I make a living, and I can’t just throw it away so I can get laid.”

Something flickers in his eyes that makes me regret the words the minute they come out.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But we agreed to just one night—that’s all it can be, right?”

He hesitates, his eyes searching my face. “That’s what we agreed to, but I really don’t think one night will be enough. For either of us.”

I sigh.

He’s right, but he’s wrong.

It can be enough if we make a mature, rational decision not to do anything stupid.

“Look, I—” I begin.

“What if—” he says at the same time.

We both chuckle.

“Ladies first,” he says graciously.

“I just think we’re playing with fire.”

“For sure, but the playoffs are only going to last for a relatively short period of time. And I have a proposal.”

“O-kay.” I draw the word out because it makes me nervous.

I know he’s going to find a way to lure me in, and I’m already struggling with this insane connection between us.

“If I score… two goals tomorrow night,” he says with a smile. “I get to eat your pussy.”

I groan.

“So not fair,” I mutter.

But scoring two goals in a playoff game like this will be almost impossible.

Almost.

“Come on,” he cajoles as the elevator doors open. “I think that’s a pretty fair trade.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“You drive a very hard bargain, Mr. Rourke.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.” He winks. “Think about it. Text me. All you have to say is yes or no. But you have to decide by morning.”

Then he saunters off in the opposite direction.

Cretin.

I let myself into my room and throw myself on the bed.

Two goals and he gets to go down on me.

I mean, how does a girl say no to that?

He’s really good at it.

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