Page 82 of Delay of Game
She laughed lightly. “While you’re both working on the house? No. I’m sure Ethan could use a hand, if you can’t.”
Her voice lowered into an almost provocative taunt. I raised an eyebrow. Was this woman fucking with me?
“What does that mean, exactly?”
She shrugged. “It means if you don’t want me, I’m sure Ethan does.”
My pulse quickened, and I took a step closer to her. Her hair brushed against my shirt, and I covered her fingers with mine. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Astrid.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Before I could talk some fucking sense into myself. She baited me, and I took that bait, hook, line, and sinker.
“You aren’t acting like you want me.” Her eyelashes fluttered as her chin dipped down, making it impossible to read her face. Her voice wavered, tentative and unsure.
I gripped her hand. My thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. “It’s not that easy.”
The back door opened, ricocheting off my back heel and closing again. Astrid pulled her hand away, taking a step away from me.
“Oh, shit. Did I hit someone?” Fieste asked from behind the closed door. “Is it safe to open?”
“Rob was in the way,” Astrid said with a forced laugh. “It’s clear now. Come on in.”
TWENTY-NINE
GRACIE
“Wait,so you had two football players at your house, and you didn’t call me?” Lily spluttered, her voice pitched high to be heard over the swarm of loud children around us.
“You said you didn’t want to help me with the house stuff.”
“That was before you had a bunch of hot professional athletes helping. During football season, no less. You are a terrible friend, you know that?”
I blushed, pushing around the pile of pretzels on the table. “Trust me. It wasn’t all fun.”
“Who’s the other player?” Lily pulled out her phone, fingers poised to search for a picture.
“Ethan Fieste. It’s his first season. He’s not a starter.”
She ignored me, her eyes locked on the phone. “Holy hell. And I thought Rob was hot.”
“You mean Mila’s father?” I hissed under my breath. “Mila’s father is hot?”
“Mila’s father is very hot, in sort of an anti-social lumberjack way. Ethan, though…” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Good gracious.”
“Ms. Evans, can I get another milk?” Derek held a sealed carton in his hands. “This is chocolate. My mom won’t let me have chocolate.”
“So, why’d you pick chocolate?” I asked, regretting it when tears formed at the corners of his eyes, falling down his cheeks.
“I didn’t think she’d know,” he cried.
“She wouldn’t,” Lily muttered under her breath.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Well, thank you for telling the truth. Let’s get you the right milk.”
I ushered Derek back into the hot lunch line. Lily continued gaping at her phone, which I couldn’t wrap my mind around. Sure, Ethan was cute. Cute like a Labrador retriever or a dorky younger brother.
Not hot. Not handsome. Just fine. Nice. No one I’d be disappointed to meet at a blind date, but certainly not Rob. Not even close.
Derek grabbed his milk, returned the unopened carton, and trotted off back to the table. I checked the clock as I sat back down across from Lily.
