Page 46 of Now That We Don't Talk

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m so intrigued,” I say, my voice low.

She rests her arms on the table leaning closer to me. “You can give the lines a rest. I’m here, and we’re having a civil conversation.”

I shake my head and follow her lead moving closer to her. “That wasn’t a line.”

There’s a magnetic force field that’s drawing me to her. And I suddenly want to tell her the truth about not being able to get her out of my mind.

“Mac Evans, from the Tennessee Wolves?” A deep voice shouts. “No way.”

A guy in a backwards baseball cap calls to his friends at the bar, and before I know it, they’re all surrounding me with hockey questions.

I glance over at Vivian, who’s watching us curiously. I appreciate my fans, but their timing is terrible. Don’t they know I’m trying to make up for years of stupidity when it comes to this gorgeous woman.

“You guys were robbed in that playoff game,” one of them shouts. “What are you thinking about next season? Will there be any major trades?”

“Sorry,” I mouth to Vivian.

She waves her hand.

“I’m expecting next season to be our best yet. Unfortunately, I don’t have any insider info on trades I can share.”

They ask a few more questions, and I do my best to stay engaged before they finally leave.

“Sorry about that,” I say.

“Why? It’s your job,” she says flatly.

“Yes.”

“Anyway, I should probably get going,” she says. “Sorry about my sister bailing. She’s not the most dependable person.”

She doesn’t need to apologize. I’m glad her sister didn’t show.

“Do you really have to go? Or are you just saying that so you can make an escape.”

She scowls but doesn’t answer me.

“Ah, I thought so,” I say knowingly. “I wanted to ask how your date went.”

At this point I’ll say anything to keep her here and talking to me.

“Wow, you’re really curious about that, aren’t you?”

“Sure I am. This should prove I’m making a true effort to be friends with you. I’m asking questions about your life.”

She gives me a skeptical look.

“Okay. It went very well. I like Cash…”

For some reason it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than me. Or it could be wishful thinking.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

She nods. “Thanks. And since we’re on the subject, how are things with Claire?”

Who’s Claire?

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