Page 20 of Tight Spot

“Yeah.” She started to reach for the water, but I beat her to it.

“Let me.” Her hands fell back to the edge of the table, and I poured the water, careful not to spill. “You saw my pictures online? You said Meredith showed them to you.”

“I did.”

“So you know who I am?”

It was supposed to be a statement but came out more of a question. I would have figured my career was the first thing Meredith would have mentioned.

“Um. No?” Her hand trembled as she reached for her glass of water. I’d tried to make her more comfortable by meeting somewhere public, not private, but if this was going to terrify her, we could move.

It wasn’t like I was recognized all the time, but it did happen. I could deal with it if I had to.

“Should I?”

My turn to laugh. I took a sip of my own water and scraped my upper lip between my teeth. Leaning forward, I rested my forearms on the table. “I play tight end for the Nashville Steel, Hailey.”

“The who…oh, that’s a sports team, right?”

She grinned then, glacial-blue eyes lighting up like she was proud of herself for guessing right.

A small amount of pressure released. At least she wasn’t here for my name or status like Mason and Davis suggested I find. That hadn’t sat well with me.

“Football,” I filled in for her, and she leaned back in her chair.

“Huh. That’s cool. You like it?”

Did I like being one of the best athletes in the entire country? Absolutely, but her nonchalance was refreshing.

“Yeah, Hailey, I like my job. I take it you’re not into sports?”

“My parents were more brains over brawn.” As soon as she said the words, her mouth formed a perfect O. “I’m sorry. That probably sounded really mean, and I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t smart…gosh, how horrible of me. I just meant my parents didn’t really let me or my siblings play sports. We always had to be focused on academics and clubs like that.”

“I know the stereotype.”

“Still, not nice of me to say.”

“I have a degree in mechanical engineering and a minor in sports medicine, so rest assured, Hailey. I’m not some dumb jock.”

Having someone assume I had no brains because I liked smashing skulls together and playing a game for a living wasn’t a new thing.

What was new was my desire to defend myself over it.

CHAPTER6

HAILEY

Well, hello. Let me open my mouth and shove my gladiator sandal right into it. Pretty sure my common sense brain cells scrambled on sight as soon as I stepped into the doorway to the private room at Valentina’s. The restaurant was crowded and there’d been a large group of people waiting in their entryway. It’d been years since I stepped foot into a restaurant this nice. Self-consciousness only increased my nerves as I followed the hostess through the restaurant in my casual summer skirt and tank top, but that had eased when I finally saw Dawson.

His casual clothing, gray dress pants and a casual shirt was the only thing that had me relaxing.

He was so much larger in person than I’d anticipated seeing his picture online. His nose ring caught the light of the wall sconces, and his hair edged his shoulders. His biceps were larger than my thighs, and the rest of him was chiseled perfection, easily viewable beneath the fabric bulging at the seams and the way those pants had fit his hips. His thighs.

Of course he was an athlete. That was oh so obvious on sight, but my faux pas at basically calling him an idiot made me want to puke into my water glass.

“I’m sorry,” I said again in a rush. This wasn’t like me, but I guess, maybe it was?

I had never dated anyone besides Darrick, not in any serious way. And back then, it’d been in high school and college where nerves were a requirement.

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