Page 11 of Power Play Pursuit

I don’t even have time to call after Elizabeth before she’s gone. Pushing down my disappointment, I turn to the girls waiting for me and take photos with them.

“Great game tonight,” the brunette says before opening her arms for a James Adler hug.

“Thanks.” I offer a genuine smile before giving her a quick embrace. “Thanks for your support.”

“You were amazing,” the othergirl says, waiting her turn to hug me.

As we chat about where they’re from, the purposeful glint in their eyes, coupled with the constant touching of my forearms, gives me a clear indication that they’re not just fans looking to catch up with their favorite player. Most people assume guys love this, and maybe some do. But not me. As much as I adore entertaining the crowd and interacting with my fans, I know these girls are only interested in dating James Adler, number eight of the New York Raptors. They dig my looks, my fame—probably my abs too, thanks to that commercial—and weirdly enough, that’s a complete turn-off for me.

I like to pursue, not to be pursued. Which isn’t an easy task when you have my occupation.

I politely excuse myself, then hurry back to the private area.

“There you are,” Hawthorne bellows, apparently having been looking for me.

“Where were you?” Miles asks, readjusting his cap. “Flirting with innocent girls again?”

I just shake my head. “For your information, I was on the phone with Mark.” He’s my agent and the one who’s been helping me diversify my income by booking me commercials and endorsement gigs. “What’s up?”

He and Beaumont start arguing about a play from earlier and suck me into the conversation. It’s always fun to put the blame on Beaumont.

After that, it’s one heated debate after another, until I feel a migraine coming on and head outside for some fresh air.

I can’t dodge another round of selfies and hugs as I make my way out, so I’m forced to put my James ‘The Hug’ Adler mask back on for a minute.

“Are you following me now?” Elizabeth’s voice hits my ears the moment I step outside the bar. She’s leaning against the wall, a finger twirling her hair.

“You caught me.” I smirk. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“Just thinking.” She sighs, a shadow of melancholy lingering behind her eyes. “Actually, I think I’m going to grab my stuff and head back to Aaron and Marissa’s.”

“Can I walk with you?”

She hesitates for a second, then nods. Good. I wasn’t about to let her walk home in the middle of the night by herself. Even if it’s only a fifteen-minute stroll.

“I’ll go grab the keys and let them know we’re leaving,” she says.

I wait outside for her, striking up a conversation with a dude wearing my jersey.

“Great game tonight,” he sayswith a grin. “Excited for the season?”

“Thanks, man. We’re pretty confident. Were you at the game?”

“Nah, we watched in here tonight,” he says, tipping his chin toward the bar. “Couldn’t get tickets, but we’ll be there tomorrow. Which is even better. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday, and I’m going to propose.”

“No way!” A smile lights up my face. “That’s amazing.”

“Actually, since I ran into you,” he says, twisting his mouth. “Do you think you could bring the ring?”

I wrinkle my forehead in surprise. “Really?”

“We’re both big Raptors fans. We actually met at a game, which is why I’m planning to propose at the arena. But you’re her favorite player, so it would be a dream come true if you were part of it.”

A feeling of pride washes over me. This dude, who I don’t even know, wants me to be part of his big moment. I’ve had a lot of crazy fan requests during my career, but this is probably the best one.

“I’d be honored. How are we making this happen? Where are you guys seated?”

“We have glass seats for the occasion, not far from the bench. You could skate over and give me the ring during warm-ups?”

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