Page 33 of The Wedding Deal
Damn it, her heart turned squishy, not being as strong as it should. Perhaps she’d been pushing a tad again, testing where they stood after yesterday. Which was evidently still cordial and friendly until it came to the rules, where they frustrated each other to no end. It was oddly nice to know nothing had changed, even though that mushy organ beating in her chest said otherwise.
He rolled his phone through his fingers, nearly as deftly as he did with pens and pencils, too—he didn’t seem to be capable of not messing with whatever was in his grip, a habit she was sure he’d carried over from constantly having a ball in his hands. “And I have a perfectly good time when you’re not section this and that-ing me.” He’d delivered it lightly, with enough of a teasing edge that it didn’t sting. He dropped his phone and leaned back in his seat, his legs spread wide. “Give it to me.”
Her throat went dry. “What?”
“The section we need to discuss.”
Right. This part wasn’t pushing. Just awkward. But the article had mentioned his bachelor status, and a few blogs were speculating about who he’d date—they also suggested women they’d like to see him with, a combination of beautiful actresses, models, and athletes. Good thing she wasn’t competing with them. “So, uh, now that there’s interest in who you’re dating—”
“There’s been plenty of interest in that before.”
She wound a strand of hair around her finger, suddenly understanding his need to do something to occupy his hands. She took a beat before charging on with it. “I know, but it won’t be like before, when there was a whole team of you.”
“A whole team of me?” He shook his head. “You lost me again.”
“Football players,” she said, not doing a very good job at hiding her exasperation. “I mean you were part of a team with a lot of players. Now you’re the head of a team, and you’re theonlyplayer in that arena. Does that make sense?”
“About as much sense as usual when it comes to this kind of thing.” He looked like he was trying not to laugh.
She was going to straightforwardly smack him upside the head. Deep breath in, slowly let it out. “Section four outlines the way everyone on the team is expected to conduct themselves in the public eye, and I’ve had to reprimand people for things like Facebook or Instagram posts and tweets before. Along with certain…videos. You need to be careful.”
“Videos?” He tilted his head. “I can’t have videos of me online? Pretty sure there are a lot of sports highlights on YouTube, and I can’t do much about that.”
Heat crawled up her neck and settled in her cheeks. “I’m talking viral videos. For not playing sports.”Although they also involve a lot of sweating and grunting and completions.
Lance blinked at her, confusion twisting his features.
“The sex ones, okay?” Yep, her cheeks were on fire now, in serious danger of bursting into flames.
A slow, self-satisfied smile spread across his face. “Full disclosure, I knew what you meant.”
“Grr.” She grabbed one of the couch pillows and tossed it at his head. Of course the jerk caught it. “What I’m saying is that while you’ve experienced a certain amount of scrutiny before, it’s going to be different, no matter how cocky you are, or how well you think you can handle whatever comes your way.” He’d struggled when the press discussed his personal life as a player, and this would be that on crack. “It’ll be a lot more intense from here on out. The spotlight is going to be turned way up. Think eye of Sauron.”
“Lord of the Rings?” he asked, and a triumphant grin split his face when she nodded. “Hey, I actually got one of your references.”
She bit back a smile, a swirl of triumph going through her, too. “Right. And you have the ring. Just you, no fellowship, no Sam.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
He scooted out of the stuffed chair and onto the coach next to her. “I’ll be careful, I promise. And it’s not something you have to worry about.”
She couldn’t look at him, and holy crap her cheeks were hot. “I mean it’s mostly PR’s job, but I just thought, since they’re back at the office and you’re here. Plus, they’re probably too scared to talk to you about it, since you fired most of the staff…” She reached for her open laptop. “Anyway, I just saw the article and felt the need to say something.”
“Not that I’m looking to date now, or even in the near future, but why’s it always got to be so complicated?”
She shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person.” She smothered the urge to add that he could ask Avril Lavigne if she’d ever gotten an answer, because he for sure wouldn’t get the song reference. “I can only imagine the scrutiny you, the staff, and the players are under. I have a hard time simply because I work for the team.”
“How so?”
She glanced at him to see if he was goading her, but his expression was sincere. She set her laptop back on the coffee table and tucked up her leg, double-checking her skirt remained in the proper range. “When guys hear I work for the Mustangs, they always want something. For a while I stopped mentioning my job. I’d go on three or four dates and dodge and change the subject if it came up. Which led to guys thinking I was super sketchy. One thought I was a gold digger—considering he worked part-time at a pizza joint, I would’ve been the worst gold digger ever.”
Lance chuckled at that, and since it’d been a couple years ago, she could laugh at it now, too.
“Another dude told me that if I was a stripper, he was totally cool with it.” She grabbed the remaining pillow and hugged it to her chest. “As long as I told him where he could come see me dance.” She brought the pillow up to cover her face, which was heating up yet again. “That’s probably inappropriate, telling you that.”
“I…” Lance snapped his jaw closed, and his words came out tight. “Inappropriate would be me commenting on you stripping.”
