Page 5 of Fumbled Love

“I’m just trying to get to know the beautiful woman sitting across from me.”

Was this real or some crazy dream? It had to be a dream, right? Maverick Cross called me beautiful. What the hell was happening? I shook my head and gave my teenage heart a minute to calm down. Focus, I reminded myself.

He doesn’t know who you are. He thinks you’re someone else. Play it cool, and don’t let him get under your skin.

“I’m afraid there is nothing special about me,” I said, trying to steady my nerves.

“I highly doubt that.” His gaze raked over me. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a celebrity stalker for TMZ.”

He took a sip of his drink. “I figured that out earlier.”

I narrowed my eyes at the smart-ass. “You’re lucky I only caused a small scene as opposed to what I really wanted to do.”

“Yeah, I’m felling pretty lucky.” He sat back in his chair as a slow smile slid onto his lips. “So, what do you do when you’re not stalking celebrities?”

“My life isn’t nearly as exciting as yours. I work for a start-up company.”

“What kind of company?”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

“When you put it like that, I guess not.”

“Good, because it would be hard to compare myself to a football legend.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

He chuckled. “You’re really not a fan of the sport I play, are you?”

“Not really.” I shrugged. “I mean, if there’s a game on, I’ll cheer for whoever my friends are rooting for. I don’t pay much attention, to be honest. I know you throw the ball to someone who runs it into the end zone, and you have a guy who kicks for an extra point. And from what I can tell, it looks like it can get a little rough on the field sometimes, but personally, I think you guys are just trying to show off,” I said, trying to play dumb even though I knew much more than that. “Honestly, I prefer baseball over football.”

“Ouch.” His hand went to his chest. “Then I guess the fact that I’m a star quarterback in the NFL doesn’t impress you then, huh?”

“Afraid not.” That was the truth. I loved the man before he became famous. I used to doodle little hearts in my diary and sign my name in cursive,Mrs. Kinley Cross. I even named our future children and clipped wedding dresses from bridal magazines on the pages of my scrapbooks. I had it bad for my best friend’s older brother. And it crushed my spirit beyond repair that he had no idea who I was.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a terrible poker face?”

My martini glass paused on its way to my lips. “Pardon?”

“Admit it.” He picked up his whiskey and swirled the amber liquid around his tumbler. “You know a lot more about football than you’re letting on. Don’t forget, my job is to study my opponents, so I can read people pretty well. I think you’re a lot more knowledgeable than you claim to be.”

My shoulders sagged in disappointment. For a slight second, I thought he knew it was me. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I told you, it’s the uniform. I really have a thing for those tight pants they force you guys to wear.”

His eyes flickered with amusement. “Damn. Now I’m pissed that I didn’t wear my uniform tonight.”

And I was glad I didn’t play poker because I’d be broke. He was right, my face would give my hand away. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with this charade for much longer. He would eventually find out the truth and realize who I was.

A group of guys walked through the door, and Maverick cleared his throat. “So, listen, I’m going to head out. People are starting to recognize me, and I don’t want to push my luck. I’d rather spend my time talking to you instead of fielding questions about my injury.” He paused and wiped his thumb across the corner of his lip. “I have a hotel room nearby.”

At first, I thought he was joking until I realized he was serious.

“That’s convenient.” I stared straight ahead. “Any reason why you’re telling me that?”

I could see him grinning out of the corner of my eye. “I like to keep my options open.”

“And I plan on keeping my legs closed, so you might want to look into other options.”

He could tease and flirt with me all he wanted, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere. I had already drawn the line at this little encounter, and there was nothing he could say that would make me cross it.

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