Page 41 of Most Likely to Score
“If that,” I grumble. I’ve dated here and there, but it’s been a long time since a woman was known as my girlfriend. My entanglements have run short and hot. I like Jillian a hell of a lot, but I’m not entirely sure what I’d do with any woman after more than a few nights together. It’s uncharted territory.
“My point exactly. Even if something happened with her, even if you were all hush-hush about it, it’s not as if you’re going to settle down. Then it’ll be over, and in a month, when you need something from her for the deal or just for the team, how’s that going to be? That’s a whole new level of soap opera drama—the player and the scorned publicist—and you donotwant to have to deal with that fallout.”
Fallout.
I force myself to stay on that word for a while longer, to picture it, to feel it. There would be a fallout. A massive, uncomfortable, awkward fallout.
And what matters more to me isn’t the potential drama in working with her if things don’t pan out. The bigger concern isher. Her job. Her reputation. I like her too much to risk messing up her professional life. If word leaked out that we’d had a fling, it could affect her credibility at work. It could change how management views her, and also how the team treats her.
I can’t let that happen. She loves her job. She’s great at it. She doesn’t deserve to be tarnished.
“Things are turning a corner financially for you,” Trevor adds. “We’re getting you deals. This is what you wanted.”
He sweeps his arm out to indicate our parents’ home.
“Mom and Dad,” I say, nodding solemnly.
I need the reminder. Taking care of my parents, buying them this house, giving them a comfortable retirement where my dad is free to grill on Sundays rather than head out for another long-haul truck route and my mom can sleep in rather than schedule extra shifts—that’s what matters.
I need to do the right thing. Stay on the straight path. “Thanks, man. You’re right. You’re always right. You know what’s best.”
He shoots me a skeptical stare. “But you’re not going to listen to me anyway, are you?”
“Of course I’ll listen to you. Nothing has happened. Nothing will happen.”
We join our parents on the porch for barbecued chicken, and I put Jillian out of my mind.
And the next day, I head to the airport and board a first-class flight to Miami with the very woman I intend to resist.
18
JILLIAN
I drink coffee on the plane. I down Diet Coke. I pop cinnamon Altoids.
Six hours later, I’m bouncing off the leather seats, hopped up on caffeine, but I’ve successfully avoided drooling in Jones’s lap, sleeping on his leg, or even doing a head-flop onto his shoulder.
I’m winning at resisting him ever since he took off from my room sometime in the wee hours a few mornings ago.
One fully-awake plane ride later, we check in at our hotel. Both of us are on the third floor, but that shouldn’t be a problem since I don’t plan on spending time in his room, or vice versa. Heck, it might even make things easier when we head out for the photo shoots, since we have one every morning, including the day we leave. And after this trip, we’ll be done with the calendar photography so goodbye temptation, thy name is no longerSleeping on Jones.
As we turn away from the front desk in the sleek,teal-blue lobby of the Blue Dreams Hotel on South Beach, the moment of truth arrives. Will we do that awkward “should we have dinner” thing that business traveling companions do, or can I pull off another dart and dodge to avoid the dangerous five-foot radius around Jones that usually reduces me to unexpected cuddling, snuggling, and flirting?
Too bad my friend Andre isn’t free tonight. He lives here and works for the local NBA team, His family is from Malaysia, and he grew up in Toronto. We’ve become close over the last few years, even though we don’t live on the same coast. But we’ve bonded over being Asian and working in sports, especially when neither one of us played a sport in college. It’s always good to see Andre, since he’s such a kindred spirit, but he’d already told me he has a date with a hot, ripped guy he met at the beach this evening, so I can’t use seeing Andre as an excuse to keep my distance from Jones. I’ll need to be strategic and find ways to maintain space between that man and me for the next three nights.
I take a deep breath.
Here goes.
“I’m going to hit the gym,” he says, at the same time as I utter, “I’m going to take off for an evening walk.”
He shoots me a grin. “Jinx.”
“Jinx,” I say with a laugh.
See? I’m pulling this off with panache and humor. Almost as if we never entwined our bodies in the middle of the night.
I drop off my bags in my room, telling myself it’sbetter that we don’t hang out. Besides, the shoot tomorrow with the local shelter is a sunrise one, so I’ll need to be up early.
