Page 32 of The Wedding Deal
“Truth,” she said with a smile he returned.
“Two, every athlete knows the risks. When you’re young, you think you’re invincible and that you’ll be the exception. But we get paid a lot of money for a decade or so, and we’re well aware we can’t keep at it forever and need to make that money last. I would’ve liked another eight to ten years, but that’s life. It’s just like on the field. If the play you wanted to work gets shut down, you regroup and make a new one.”
His gaze went hazy, turning to another place and another time. “That also took longer than I would’ve liked. It didn’t help that right when I was losing the team, I also lost—” He clamped his lips and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, for a while it felt like I’d lost everything, and I drifted afterward, having a hard time finding my sense of purpose. Until now.”
“I’m glad the team’s bringing it back.”
“Me, too.” He twisted toward her, making their bubble that much smaller. “I… I’ve never really admitted that to anyone.”
“Well, according to HR guidelines, anything employees tell me in confidence, I keep in confidence. As long as it doesn’t pose a threat to another employee or the company.” She bumped her shoulder into his so he knew she was joking. “I also have something to admit…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve decided to cut my athletic career short. It was a today-only thing. If I mess up my knee, I won’t be able to wear my shoes, and I really love my shoes.”
“I’m rather fond of your shoes, too,” he said, his voice low and secretive, and it ignited a spark in her gut. That tension was back, the chemistry between them firing stronger as they locked eyes.
It’d be so easy to lean into him. To get lost and forget all the things she needed to remember about why he wasn’t a good guy to fall for and how it’d look, and where was her brain with its ever-present list of rules? The rules had kept her safe.
The rules meant she didn’t gamble with things she couldn’t afford to lose, and she could lose her heart so easily to this guy. If her ex could crush her…Lance wouldeviscerateher.
Desperate to pop their bubble, she turned to address another member of the party, only to find that at some point they’d left them alone. There they were at the bar, getting more drinks. Possibly thinking they should give her and Lance space.
But she needed spacefromhim.
She shot out of the water, fast enough that she didn’t think about how exposed she’d be until she was standing, water dripping down her body. “I have to go make a call. To my roommate.”So she can tell me all the reasons I need to keep it together and avoid flirting with my boss. Who also doesn’t fit the non-football-dude requirement in any way, shape, or form.
Hell, she’d even agree to let Shannon set her up at this point. That way she’d at least be spending an evening with someone in her league, regardless of if it wasn’t the league she wanted to play in.
“I’ll walk you back,” Lance said, starting to stand.
“No!” It came out way too loud, and a few people glanced their way. “I mean, no. Stay with your family and friends. Have a drink. I’ll be in our temporary office around nine so we can put in a few hours of work and chat strategy before the call with Coach Bryant.”
Instead of waiting for him to confirm the plan, she rushed away, fighting the urge to readjust her swimsuit bottom, since it’d only draw attention to her ass.
After all, she already felt exposed enough.
Chapter Twelve
As Charlotte had been fleeing the scene of overwhelming desire yesterday, she’d noticed a group of pretty women heading toward the hot tub, and the crazy part of her—which was starting to feel bigger and bigger lately—wanted to know if Lance had chatted up any of the women.
What if he’d gone to one of their rooms after? He was of course free to do so, but what if he forgot to be discreet and they had a scandal before they had a full staff?
Charlotte set her laptop aside, her brain morphing into the obsessive level of wondering with Lance seated across from her in their temporary office. “Hey, quick PR chat since theTimesran that article on you and the shakeup of the team…” Her Google alerts had lit up her phone at the butt crack of dawn, and she’d read, first with her fan eye and then with her HR, legally-cover-the-team eye. “Since you’re now getting to be more of a public figure and are on that eligible bachelor list, there’s another section of the handbook we need to cover. Namely section four.”
Lance groaned. “Can we give the handbook a rest?”
“It’s my job not to give it a rest.”
“As your boss, I’m gonna make it your job.”
“You can’t just change my job description on a whim, and while yes, you can fire me, I’d be legally obligated to file a report it certain protocols were broken. Newsflash, you’re not exempt from the rules.”
He growled.
As if that would detour her. She crossed her arms and cocked her head, giving him attitude right back. “Is that a frustrated growl or a threatening growl? Because a threatening one would breach section three.”
He growled again, no change to the inflection.
“Bet you’re regretting bringing me along now,” she said. “I told you this was probably a mistake.”
This time his gaze actually lifted from his phone screen. “I don’t regret bringing you along, Charlotte. I need you here.”
