Page 46 of One Night Only
I take a deep breath, puffing the air from my cheeks.
“He called to tell me that he’s arranged a meeting tomorrow morning to discuss a potential endorsement.” His eyes flit between mine. “He’s my agent. That’s literally his job.”
My shoulders fall. Because he’s right. I shake my head, looking around. “I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper under my breath.
“Wait… what?” Dallas guffaws. “Baby, what are you talking about?”
I push my chaotic hair back from my face, suddenly full of self-doubt and panic. “You just said it yourself. Andy is your agent.” I throw my hands up. “I-I shouldn’t be here.”
I turn, hurrying back through to the bedroom in search of my things. I need to get the hell out of here. This isn’t right.
“Goldie, wait!” Dallas is hot on my heels, grabbing my wrist.
I spin around, meeting his big green eyes that are wide and fraught with panic. Very un-Dallas-like as he whispers, “Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything, Dallas.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. “Last night was fun. It was…reallyfun. But you and I both know it was just—” I stop myself, searching for the words I need while also scanning the floor for my missing panties.
“It was justwhat?”
I look up, surprised by the steeliness in his voice, his face stark, jaw clenching tight as he waits.
I cock my head to the side. “Dallas, it was fun, but it was just… one night.”
“I think I recall you saying that about our first night together.” He scoffs, a disbelieving look in his eyes. “You really think what happened between us last night was just another one-time thing?”
“No, I don’t.” I shake my head. “But I think it has to be.”
“No, it doesn’t!” he exclaims, exasperatedly, likeI’mthe delusional one.
“It’s so easy for you to say that!” I yell, shocked by my own volume.
Dallas exhales hard, placing his hands on his hips and giving me the floor even though I can tell he wants to interject.
“You’re a professional athlete. Andyneedsyou. You’re his money maker. But Andy is my boss. I need him. He can find another assistant like that—” I snap my fingers. “This is my first job in over three years.Threeyears! Do you know how hard it is to get back into the workforce after such a long leave of absence?” I narrow my eyes, studying his face that is, as expected, completely clueless because of course he has no idea. There is no reason he should. He doesn’t need to worry about this sort of stuff.
“Before I got sick, I had the best job. Ilovedmy job. I was head of operations at a digital marketing company, and I was being considered for a promotion to COO. It was small, with less than a hundred employees, but it was amazing. I’d been there for almost seven years, since they opened the doors, and I worked my ass off, starting from the literal bottom. But then I got cancer. I had to quit my job. And I was out of work for three years. Not only was I sick, but I was broke, living in my parents’ basement. I was so depressed. I felt worthless.” I suck in a trembling breath, emotion getting the better of me at the memory.
Before I can start crying, I continue, “Now, I’ve got this chance at HMC, the best sports management company in thecountry. And maybe, if I can prove to Andy that I’m good at what I do, that I know my shit, that I can make a difference, then maybe I can work my way back up. But to do that, I need to show that I can follow the rules.” I offer him a pointed look. “Andy’srules.”
I sigh heavily, murmuring, “I know I’ll never be the person I was before I got sick, but that doesn’t mean I have to be less.”
Dallas stares at me, an unreadable look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
And as hard as it is, I step around him and continue into the bathroom to get changed back into my dress, disappointment sitting like lead in my stomach. But this is the way it has to be.
“Here.”
I startle, turning around to see Dallas right there, a scrap of satin in his hand. I take it from him, my cheeks flushing when I see that it’s my thong.
“I washed it and put it in the drier earlier,” he says with a shrug. “I hope I didn’t ruin it.”
Something clenches around my heart, squeezing the life out of it.
“Thank you,” I manage through the thickness in my throat.
He nods once and starts to walk back out. But he stops in the doorway and turns, reaching up and grabbing the top of the doorframe, holding onto it as he stands there and watches me with a contemplative look in his eyes.
I swallow hard around the lump that clogs my throat. Between his unwavering gaze and the things he’s doing to my insides simply by existing, standing there in nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweats, his beautiful body taunting me, I shift my weight from foot to foot, willing myself to stay put despite the way I want to run to him right now and hold on to him for dear life.
