Page 12 of The Fine Line
She scoffs. “Drinking the night before your first game of the season? Really off to an admirable start, Captain.”
Shit.
What the hell am I doing?
I shake my head, trying to rein myself in. “I wasn’t planning to drink,” I lie. “Just treating you.”
She hums, clearly not buying it.
“So… where should I pick you up from?” I ask.
“Nowhere.”
“You want to meet there instead?”
“Nope.”
“Come on, Cub,” I groan. “It’d be fun.”
We’re at the door to the broadcasting office now. Caroline turns and looks back at me as she grabs the door handle.
“Rhett, there are a few thousand women in Austin who would jump at the chance to have a little fun with you. Why don’t you ask one of them?”
“Because I don’t want a woman.”
It slips out fast—too fast. No time to cage it in charm.
Her brows raise.
“I mean,” I clear my throat. “I want you.”
Now they pinch together.
And even though we both know it’s true, I clear my throat and soften it—for her, not me. “I want to go with you.”
She presses her lips into a tight line. “How many dates do I have to turn down before you stop asking?”
“At least one more.”
“Fine,” she says.
I perk up.
“No,” she finishes.
She starts to open the door, but I stop it with my hand against the frame. “Just as friends then?”
Her gaze flicks up to mine, thoughtful for the briefest second. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not friends.”
“Because we’re so much more?”
She gives me a dry smile. “Only in your dreams.”
I blow out a long breath.
