He smirks. “Baby, we both know you’re not sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Goosebumps cover my arms.
And I don’t have the energy to deny any of it.
“One drink,” I relent. “Andmaybean appetizer.”
“Dinner,” he negotiates, “and we split a bottle of wine. Your choice. Even that sweet white shit you love so much.”
Give yourself a chance.
My lips twitch upward. “It’s a date.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Alex
The jazz bandat Belle’s Place is playing a melody of Miles Davis, which fills the space in the private loft where Olive and I are seated. There’s a vanilla candle flickering on the table, cutting through the dim light of the room that she’s looking around.
“This is where it happened,” Olive says, breaking the silence as she meets my eyes.
“What?”
“The assault.” She gestures toward my head, which I nearly forgot hurt. I guess there’s something to the distraction method when it comes to chronic pain after all. “You stopped in the alley and looked like you saw a ghost.”
Damn. I did do that, huh? “That night is still a little fuzzy. But, yes. Clarkson’s stepsister owns this place. I’m sure you’ll meet her. It’s only a matter of time before she busts up here asking me why I’m out of bed.”
I’m surprised she didn’t greet us at the door. I know she told Jesus, one of the security guards, to let her know when one of the guys shows up so they can be let right in.
“I saw the photos of her,” she says, fiddling with the straw wrapper of her soda because she didn’t want wine. Something tells me it was when she saw the price of the bottle. “On the news, they were showing you walking into the hospital.”
I remember the camera flashes, but not much else from the walk from Belle’s car to inside the emergency room.
“She’s cool” is all I say about her. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that needs to be said. “The guys and I have been here afew different times. What happened that night isn’t common, if you’re worried.”
“I’m not,” she promises. “Butyou’renot? We both know you can’t afford another injury. You’ve suffered concussions before at Lindon.”
I did, and each one of them sucked. But I’m not going there right now because I know where this is headed. All athletes have to face the reality that we can only take so many hits before our careers are at jeopardy. Thankfully, I’ve only had three injuries, and they were all minor.
“Crime in this area really isn’t common. What happened here was a freak thing. You don’t have to worry about it happening again.”
She bites down on her bottom lip that’s painted pink. It’s bright, and I’m fairly sure she’s caught me staring at her mouth at least twice since she applied the color in the car. She chose that with intent, and it’s working.
“I do, though,” she admits with a shrug. “Worry. And trust me, I don’t like it. It’s easier to only think about yourself, but that’s not always reality. I think you and I are more similar than we think. We both wish we could be more selfish than we are. That’s probably why we’ve gotten along all these years.”
I can think of a lot of reasons we’ve gotten along, but I’ve never wanted to admit it’s because we’re similar. I don’t want her to be as cynical as I am, and if we’re that alike, that’s what it would make her—a girl who looks at life like it’s a glass half empty. “If that’s true, I feel bad for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You may have a lot going on in your life, but that doesn’t make you broken. You just want people to think you are so they don’t bother trying to break past the barriers you put up. Spoiler alert, Alex, you already let me in. I met your mom. You told me about your childhood. How many people know about that?”
I can’t even try denying it because she’s right.
“Do your teammates know about your mom?” she pries, wrapping those damn lips around her straw and taking a long sip. It brings me back to the times she’d wrap them aroundme.
Now I’m hard in my goddamn jeans.
I peel my eyes off her mouth and lift them to meet hers. “No.”
I try mentally talking down my boner.