Page 65 of Loving the Legend
“There’s the reputation of me as a playboy, and there’s the real me. I thought you knew the difference.”
“Wait,” I reply, getting pissed off. “What am I missing? You have dated a series of actresses, models, and singers. Have you not?”
He shifts his weight. “Yes, but—”
“Okay then,” I interrupt. “What am I supposed to think when I see you with a gorgeous, barely dressed singer sitting in a corner alone, laughing, as she whispers some shit in your ear? Is it far-fetched that I’d think you were on a date or about to hook up?” I cringe. I sound like a jealous lover, and I hate it.
“Fair. The next time you see me out, at least say what’s up instead of acting like we’re strangers.”
“Got it.” I fire back.
I stare off past his shoulder, ignoring the heat of his gaze.
The growing silence is heavy but the pull to be next to him is strong. I’d stand here with him all night if Will wasn’t waiting for me.
I release a heavy sigh. “I got to bounce.” I hope he hears the remorse in my voice.
His voice is low when he replies, “Congrats on making MVP yesterday.” The pinch between his brows relaxes.
“Thanks. Good luck with All-Stars tomorrow,” I reply, softening my tone. He’s the Eastern Conference captain, drafted a third year in a row.
We stare at each other. The intensity of his gaze, which I’m certain mirrors my own, leads to an aching swell in my chest. Will it ever feel less galvanic between us? Even when I’m aggravated, god, I want him. All of my reservations about crossing the line seem insignificant right now. Whatever’s buzzing between us is metamorphic. His piercing gaze, the force field of energy bouncing between us, his scent—fuck.
Why does he have to be so sexy? It’s too much. If he made a move, there’s no way I could resist him. It’d be impossible. Reason is frail and at odds with the fire raging through my body for him.
His hand, concealed by the wall we’re leaning against, embraces mine, and my breath catches in my throat. His thumb rubs soft circles in the area between my thumb and index finger. My eyes shudder closed as a ball of heat rolls down my spine.
“Where are you going with that actor guy?” he asks, barely above a whisper.
I gaze at our embrace and feel almost hypnotized by the heat generated with every rotation of his thumb. My lips part as I meet his gaze.
“Home,” I say, my breath shaky from his touch.
He pulls his hand away, and something twists inside of me at the masked look of hurt on his face. My hand, no longer mine to restrain, pulls his hand back and traces soft circles in his palm. His Adam’s apple bobs, signaling that he feels it too.
His gaze flicks past me just as I hear, “Hey, handsome. I thought that was you.”
My head spins around at the sound of my agent, Phil’s, voice.
I reluctantly release Sid’s hand.
“Hey—Phil, what are you doing here?”
“You kidding? This is the only place to be. I should probably pay King D a commission for the amount of new business this event brings me every year.”
I grin. The dude is a workaholic. “Have you met Sid?” I ask, flicking a quick gaze at Sid.
“I haven’t had the pleasure. It’s nice to meet you. I’m a ginormous fan,” Phil says, extending a hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Sid replies, shaking his hand with a tight smile.
Maybe I should have lied when he asked me where I was going with Will, but I didn’t want to lie to him.
“I’m surprised to see you here. I can’t get you to attend any of these events,” Phil says, patting my shoulder.
“Yeah, I didn’t have a choice. Team vets made it clear that if I decline another invite, I’d be in the doghouse,” I joke. I glance at Sid and follow his gaze to Phil’s hand resting on my shoulder. I inch closer toward him, forcing Phil’s hand to drop.
My arm brushes the rippling muscle of Sid’s chest, and I’m not sure whose breath shudders first.
