Page 20 of Romancing the Grump
“Wow. And by the sound of it, you’ll enjoy yourself too.”
He shoots me a wry expression, the corner of his mouth hinting at a smile but never fully giving in. “I don’t mind.”
His admission feels like another tiny victory. “What about me? Are you worried about whetherImind?”
I don’t. I really, really don’t.
He shifts, starting to heft himself out of the seat. “You know what? I can just go and make room for?—”
“No!” I say quickly, wrapping my hands around his forearm before he can actually stand up. “I’d rather sit beside you than anyone else on the team.”
His eyebrows lift, and I realize how bold my words sounded. I quickly drop his arm, but I won’t wish my words back, no matter how embarrassed I feel. Even if he is grumpy and unsmiling—it’s true. I reallywouldchoose him over anyone else, and I’d rather own that than pretend otherwise. I’m too old to play games, at least when it comes to men.
Though Iamtempted to turn making Nathan smile into a game. There has to be a secret, and I feel a new determination to figure out what it is.
“I’ll stay, then,” he says, his tone slightly more gentle than before. “But you’re welcome to pretend I’m not here.” He gestures toward my laptop, which has been sitting across my thighs unopened for the past hour. “You can work or whatever.”
Ha. Like I’m going to be able to doanykind of work with his big body filling the space beside me. If I lean to the right the slightest bit, I can feel the warmth radiating off his arm, and the air between us carries a touch of his spicy clean scent. It’s intoxicating—and incredibly distracting.
But Nathan has been determined to nap since he first sat down, and I doubt very seriously he’ll abandon his cause just to talk to me, so I begrudgingly open my laptop and pull up the revised contracts Flex sent over.
There are a few things they haven’t changed yet, but I don’t get the sense they’re trying to pull one over on me. It’smore like their inexperience is keeping them from knowing what they should and shouldn’t ask for. Their exclusivity clause, for example, is completely unreasonable. Especially given the popularity of the Appies. The language in their contract is so limiting that it could, if strictly interpreted, prohibit the guys from wearinganythingbranded, including the Appies team logo.
I also want to see terms that provide extra compensation should Alec or Nathan wear Flex gear in any posts, images, or videos shared or promoted by the Appies’ social media accounts, or during any public appearances with the team.
Flex isn’t wrong for wanting the team’s reach and image to help boost their sales. But they aren’t contracting with the entire team, they’re contracting with two players, and it shouldn’t be assumed that these things will happen.
I feel confident we’ll be able to iron out these issues. It’s a good brand, and the compensation they’re offering is competitive. Makes me think they must have gotten a recent infusion of capital and are trusting the Appies’ rising stars will help them gain the traction they’re looking for.
Beside me, Nathan’s breathing steadies—canALL mensleep anywhere, in any position?—and I fall into my work, rewriting the terms of the contract for the next hour. It’s surprisingly easy to work sitting next to Nathan. His presence is soothing, reassuring in a way I did not expect. Turns out, it’s actually pretty nice to stop worrying about who might come talk to me next.
Though, I have a feeling I’d find Nathan’s presence comforting anywhere.
When work starts to bore me, I swap my laptop for my Kindle, but the steady hum of the bus, and maybe the fact that Nathan isstillsleeping beside me makes it hard to focus on the novel I’m reading, and I eventually nod off.
I wake up what could be minutes or hours later—I honestly have no idea—when my pillow shifts and a warm hand wraps around my arm, nudging me just slightly.
“Summer. Hey. Time to wake up.” The deep voice is quiet and close, and in my sleep-addled state, it has the opposite effect. It doesn’t make me want to wake up—it makes me want to snuggle in close and sleepmore.I let out a low moan, lifting a hand to wrap it around my pillow…except mypillowis Nathan’s shoulder and my hand is curved around his bicep.
And it is one nice bicep.
Slowly, I sit up and slide my hand off Nathan’s arm, mostly because I think I might have been drooling. Even if I wasn’t, I was absolutely using Nathan as my personal pillow, groping him like he was some sort of body pillow I wanted to hug closer.
I wipe the corner of my mouth, my cheeks flushing as I glance at his shirt, hoping against hope I didn’t leave a drool spot there.
“Worried you drooled on me?” Nathan says.
I look up to meet his gaze as the warmth in my face flames hot. His mouth is still set in a neutral line, but it looks like his eyes are smiling. “Little bit.”
He looks at his shirt sleeve. “I think you’re safe, but you did snore.”
I let out a little gasp. “I did not.”
“You definitely did.”
In the aisle beside us, players and Appies staff are shuffling off the bus. I have no idea where we are or how long I slept, but it’s already dark outside, so we can’t be that far from Chicago.
I glance at my watch. Just after six. Only three more hours to go if we’re on schedule.
