“A job.”
“A job?” I echo.
She just graduated from her master’s program and she has a job opportunity already?
Attagirl.
“Don’t you have practice?” she asks, eyebrows raised.
“Is it the TV analyst job? The one that’s open now after Donaldson retired?”
She purses her lips, and I think for a second she’s not going to answer me. “Yeah, actually,” she eventually says.
“Oh, you’ve totally got that in the bag, Cub.”
She shoots me a look.
“Why do you say that?”
I want to say something slick, something funny. But for once, I don’t.
“Because you’ve earned it.”
That stops her. She turns fully toward me, brows knittingtogether. I meet her gaze and hold it. The air thickens between us, quiet but charged. For a second, I see the slightest flicker of something unfamiliar in her eyes. Something that makes me wonder if the wall she’s had up for me for years isn’t as bulletproof as she makes it seem.
Now would be the perfect time to be genuine. To pull back my own curtain. Be entirely vulnerable.
So, naturally, I fumble it immediately.
“Also, you’ve got a face for TV if I’ve ever seen one, Cub.”
And just like that, she snaps right back into usual form. “Well, I’d tell you what your face looks like it’s good for, but I’m trying to keep things professional here now.”
I lean down, whispering near her ear. “It’s okay. No one’s around. You can say sitting. You wouldn’t be wrong.”
She stands up on her tiptoes, getting close enough to my ear to send a shiver straight down my spine. “I’d rather sit on a bed of nails.”
I pull my head back, leaving just a few inches between our faces and meeting her eyes.
“I knew you were kinky.”
She rolls her eyes.
I love when she does that.
Hell, I love when she does just about anything.
“So how are we celebrating after you get the job?” I ask.
“If I get this job,” she muses, “I will be celebrating with the filthiest martini Austin has to offer.”
“Great. I know just the place.”
I don’t. Not even the slightest idea.
But I’ll figure it out by then.
“In fact, we can go there tonight, if you want.”