Page 27 of The Playmaker
I lock eyes with a pair of amused green ones.
Jax.
Damn it!
Just to prove a point, I shove even more of the burrito on my mouth giving him a stink eye.
He laughs, grabbing his plate and joining me uninvited in my booth.
"Impressive," he says about the amount of food I can chew at once.
I almost choke laughing.
"I didn't invite you to sit with me."
"You didn't tell me to leave."
"Look, I'm clearly trying to avoid the team, and you, so…" I gesture vaguely away from me.
"Trying, huh? Maybe you should look into why it's so much effort for you to not want to be around me."
He waggles his eyebrows at me and scoops up some of my rice with my fork. I glare at him.
Then I sit back, observing him away from the team. He seems different. Lighter. "That's why I don't trust you. Well, part of it. That flirty little 'I'm so hot' athlete attitude you have…it doesn't feel real. Like, at all."
"Look at you, oh wise one."
"So why do it? Why put on this player act of yours?"
"Maybe because it's expected." That's all he gives me.
I study him, remembering what Coach almost revealed earlier. There's something here that doesn't fit the narrative I've spent years reporting on.
"Could be. But there's more. Hawk does it too, but with him and the younger guys, it feels real."
"As real as your orgasm earlier?" He winks at me.
"More real than yours," I snark back at him.
"I guess you'll never know that."
I put my burrito down. "Who's Riley?"
"Oh no, we're not going there. You and I," he gestures to us, "are no where near being close enough for that."
"Close, huh?" I squint at him. "You lost your family yearsago, so it can't be that. You wouldn't guard an ex, I don't think."
His expression shifts subtly—a tightening around the eyes, a tension in his jaw. I've hit a nerve, and my reporter's instincts are screaming that I'm onto something important.
"Off limits conversation."
I finish my burrito in three bites, throw some cash on the table and start to slide out of the booth.
"It's probably super boring, anyway." I smile sweetly at him. "Well, it's been fun, but I've got to go."
"Your vibrator's waiting for you, I get it." He shrugs.
I stand there, jaw on the floor. Then, I laugh. "Better than my hand," I quip.
