Page 75 of Over the Moon

But I failed.

Go figure. This woman was so far under my skin I couldn’t see straight.

“Hey, how are you this morning?” she asked, pushing to stand and pulling her foot against her ass to stretch her quads.

“I’m good. How’d you sleep?” I asked. This was maybe the oddest conversation we’d had in a while.

Why were we making pleasantries?

We had a hard time pulling our lips apart just a few hours ago.

“I slept well, Clark. Have you heard from my father?” she asked, her chin tipped up as if she were preparing for my answer.

“I did hear from him this morning. I’m guessing you’re not too happy about their visit?”

She narrowed her gaze. “Gee, let me think about this. My father, Randall—the man I answer to—and Sebastian, who happens to be an owner of the team I work for, are all coming here to see how it’s going. Meanwhile, we’re making out like teenagers and acting completely unprofessional. Yes, I’m thrilled they’ll be visiting. Thrilled!” she shouted, making no attempt to hide her sarcasm. “The jig is up. I’m going to be fired and shamed and wear a scarlet A on my chest. No, it’ll be a scarlet C, for Clark. The woman who couldn’t even keep her job for a three-month stint with the big superstar.”

“That’s very sweet of you to call me a superstar,” I said, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she was being.

“That’s what you took from that statement? My ass is grass, Chadwick.”

I believe my sister, Emerson, refers to this type of behavior as spiraling. And Eloise Gable was most definitely spiraling.

Normally, I’d run from this type of outburst, but I actually found it endearing.

The way she cared.

She was passionate and driven, and it was hot as hell.

And I wanted to fix it. Make everything okay for her.

“Your ass is not grass. We’re not going to be making out in front of them. They have no idea what’s going on here. They’re coming to check on the progress. They want to make sure I’ve recovered from my injury and working hard. That’s it. They aren’t coming because they suspect something. They’re coming because we just had a winning season and they want to do it again,” I said, motioning for us to start our run, because the girlloved to stay on schedule, and we were already getting a later start than usual.

She was quiet after I responded, and I glanced over to see her deep in thought.

“Okay, that’s a good point. No more funny business. This ends now. I appreciate the date. It was really great, and yes, you’re a good kisser. But this cannot happen, and I need you to be on the same page as me with this,” she said, her breaths coming a little faster now. “In fact, maybe you play it up this weekend. Act like I’m a tyrant of a trainer, and I’m pushing you too hard, and that’s why you’re stronger than ever. Yes, that’s the plan. You can’t stand me, but if you can toss in a few plugs that I’m good at my job, that would be helpful.”

“You are good at your job,” I said dryly. “I don’t need to act like you are.”

“Clark. You can’t show them that you like me,” she huffed. “You have to act like it’s painful for you to admit that I’m good at my job because you can’t stand me.”

“Here’s a question for you, Weeze,” I said, as we turned down Main Street. Edith was standing outside the Honey Biscuit Café, adjusting the flower box, and she waved.

“Let’s hear it,” Eloise said as she panted.

“If we hadn’t kissed last night, and we were just friends who were training together, I wouldn’t have to despise you. You don’t have to hate someone you aren’t dating. It’s too extreme. It’s not my personality to be that irritated with someone I’m working with. It will seem unnatural.”

“Says the hotshot hockey player. You don’t have to worry about your reputation. I do. And trust me, if you’re too nice to me, Randall will sniff it out. He’ll think something is going on,” she huffed as we picked up the pace. “The man totally has it out for me.”

I swear, the more concerned she got, the harder she ran.

“What will he think is going on? In the few years I’ve known him, I have not been in a relationship,” I said. “He won’t think anything is going on.”

“Oh, right, because you’re just a playboy who likes a quick roll in the sheets,” she snipped as if it were the most offensive thing she’s ever heard.

“Well, if you want to put it that way, yes. That’s what he thinks. And I was raised to be respectful to women, so I wouldn’t be that hard on you, even if you pushed me. He knows I like to be pushed.”

She let out a long breath as we ran down toward the river. “Okay, so how would you treat a woman that you had no interest in sleeping with?”

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