Page 17 of Undisputed Player
Even thinking his name made something flutter stupidly in my chest. I could still see him in that classroom doorway, backlit by Seaside's crystal chandeliers like some sort of fallen angel who'd decided to slum it with the mortals.
He had golden hair that looked like it had been styled by professionals, a jawline that could cut glass, and that suit—that suit probably cost more than I made in six months.
He'd smelled like expensive cologne, something clean and masculine that made my mouth water and my brain short-circuit in ways it never did before.
I had to get it together. He wasn’t for me. He wasn’t even my species.
But it was his eyes that had engraved themselves in my head. Blue, the kind of electric blue you saw in magazine photos that had been Photoshopped to perfection. Except his were real.
They'd locked onto mine with an intensity that felt physical, like he was reaching across the classroom to touch me without moving an inch.
I'd met rich men before. Seaside was crawling with them duringpickup, but none had looked at me likethat.Like I was a mystery he needed to solve, a lock he wanted to pick.
Like I was worth looking at in the first place.
And the way he moved...All predatory grace and confident swagger, like he owned every room he entered and everyone in it should be grateful for his presence.
When he'd crouched down to talk to Avery, his thighs had strained against the fabric of his perfectly tailored pants, and I'd found myself wondering what those thighs would feel like under my hand?—
Stop it.I slammed my hand down on the table, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. Stop thinking about his thighs. Stop thinking about him at all.
But the damage was done. My pulse picked up, heat pooling low in my belly in a way that was both mortifying and entirely unwelcome.
When was the last time I'd felt anything like this? When was the last time I thought about a man's body and felt that sharp spike of want?
It was never. Because I didn’t have time for want. I only had time for survival, and that was it.
I shoved away from the table, chair legs screeching against the scratched tiles, and paced to the window that overlooked our slice of urban paradise.
The streetlamp outside cast yellow light over the overflowing dumpster, its lid hanging open like a mouth mid-scream. Trash bags were torn open by raccoons, creating an abstract art piece from a horror movie.
I watched my reflection in the glass—hollow-cheeked, hair escaping from its ponytail in exhausted wisps, dark circles under my eyes like purple bruises. I looked exactly like what I was: an overworked, underfed guardian hanging on by her fingernails.
Definitely not the kind who turnedhishead.
Yet when he'd shaken my hand, his grip firm and warm, his thumb brushing across my knuckles in what could have been an accident but felt deliberate, I’d felt it. That spark, stupid and dangerous, shot up myarm and settled somewhere behind my ribs where it had no business being.
I'd yanked my hand back like he’d burned me, busying myself with Leo's backpack to hide the flush creeping up my neck like a neon sign advertising my attraction to a man who was so far out of my league he might as well have been from another planet.
"Estelle."
The way he'd said my name still echoed in my head, low and smooth. He'd tasted it on his tongue like he was trying to memorize the flavor, and I'd felt something inside me respond that had been dormant for so long I'd forgotten it existed.
No one had said my name like that in years. Maybe ever.
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching my breath fog the surface. The street outside was empty except for a stray cat picking through the scattered garbage, its movements cautious and quick.
It was smart—survival first, everything else second.
Jax Easton was dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with his career in the ring. I'd seen the tabloids at the grocery store checkout, him draped over models at premieres, champagne flutes in jeweled hands, his smile all calculated charm and white teeth.
He was a comet blazing across the sky, beautiful and destructive, burning up everything in his path…
And I was a cold stone worn smooth by necessity, stuck to the earth by gravity and responsibility.
We existed in different universes.
Different dimensions.
