Page 46 of Score to Settle
“You’re here,” I say as he reaches my side, speaking up to be heard as the band starts again, this time with a singer and a lively beat.
“And you’re breathtaking,” he replies, lips brushing my cheek and causing a flash of heat to burn in my core.
“Seriously, you’re here? Why? How? This is a private event. You can’t just walk in from the street,” I say, stumbling over my words as he pulls back.
Jake takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, replacing my near-empty wine glass. “Thehowis easy. I’m Jake Sullivan. That’s an automatic ticket to any event in Denver.” He winks.
I roll my eyes. “Fine.Whyare you here?”
He smiles. “Cassidy, I’m a tight end. My job isn’t just catching passes—it’s blocking, protecting my teammates, making sure they’re covered when they need it. Trust me, I know when someone needs a wingman.”
“I’m fine.” I laugh.
He narrows his eyes a fraction.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I correct. “Thank you.”
He slips an arm around me and turns us so we’re facing the room. The heat of his body, his fingers on my skin—it’s electric. “Where is he, then?”
“Who?” I ask.
“The ex your dad chose over you.”
“Oh.” I nod to the table near the stage where Scott is holding court with a group of men and women, acting like the up-and-coming editor he is. “Brown hair. Smug smile.”
I know there’s more I should tell Jake about Scott, but now isn’t the time.
“OK, then.” He nods, and there’s an intensity to his gaze that makes my stomach drop.
“OK, what?” I ask, nerves fluttering—but in a good way.
“Well, for starters, it’s a crime for anyone to wear this dress and look this gorgeous and hide in the corner.” He moves me to arm’s length, turning me slowly around and flashing an appreciative smile. “So drink up. We’re dancing.”
I laugh and let Jake pull me to the dance floor. It feels like every pair of eyes in the room is on us, including Scott’s. But Jake’s confidence must be rubbing off on me, because with him by my side, I don’t care what the people in this room think of me. All I care about is the heat of Jake’s touch on my bare skin and that simmering tension between us. I know it isn’t hate now. It’s desire.
TWENTY-ONE
JAKE
Harper is stunning in red silk that clings to every curve. It’s a dress made for her. It’s also a dress made to be stepped out of, left as a pool on the floor while I explore every inch of her naked body. The thought makes my dick stir. I force my mind back to the dance floor and the feel of the smooth skin of Harper’s back against the rough callouses on my hands.
This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. My plan tonight was simple—be Harper’s knight in shining armor. But with her looking like this, I might have a harder time keeping my intentions purely chivalrous.
I remind myself of all the reasons making a move on Harper is a bad idea. For starters, we’ve only just stopped hating each other. I like the easy flirting between us and I don’t want to spend the next twelve days together arguing. Plus, there’s the feature to consider. I’ve been keeping a low profile. There have been no new bullshit rumors about me. But this close to the playoffs and contract negotiations, my career is riding on this feature. I need Harper to see the real me, not the player and womanizer she thought I was at the start. And I don’t need to drag her reputation into the same mud I’m in. Which means notmaking a move. Not to mention the fact I promised I wouldn’t kiss her.
“Remind me to send a thank you card to Mrs. Conley,” Harper murmurs in my ear as we sway to the music, finding our rhythm together. In those strappy red heels, she’s only a few inches shorter than me and her red lips are so close it would take nothing to lean in and kiss her.
I give a questioning look. “Mrs. Conley, the battle-axe principal of West Denver High? Why are we thanking her tonight?”
Harper grins. “Don’t you remember she forced us all to take dance lessons in the weeks running up to prom? I think she hoped it would keep some decorum to the prom nights.”
I tip my head back and laugh. “I’d completely forgotten that.”
“Blocked it out, more like.” Harper shudders. “Mia and Chase always danced together, leaving me slim pickings. Most of the boys were a head shorter than me.”
I chuckle as Harper recounts those awkward high school dance lessons. “I definitely don’t remember having a shortage of dance partners back then.”
“Star player on the football team. What a surprise every girl was clamoring to be your partner.”
