Page 22 of Tempting the Player
JANE
I am so giddy,I can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or him. Something shifted between us. I wouldn’t say I’ve won him over, but he seems to be having fun now. I’m going to go ahead and call that a win.
“So not cool, Henny,” Archer says after he misses a cup. Again.
Every time they’re about to throw the ball, I repeat some tidbit that Hendrick has told me about them. Archer sent Selena Gomez DMs every day for an entire year when he was twelve. She never replied.
Brogan cried watchingThe Hunger Games. And plenty of other little tidbits that have made me laugh. I have a feeling Hendrick’s holding back and not revealing anything too embarrassing, but he’s still successfully thrown them off their game and we’re now down to two cups and it’s our turn.
The corner of his lips twitch like Hendrick’s fighting a smile. His focus is intense as he aims and fires, dunking his ball in one of the two remaining cups of beer in front of Archer and Brogan.
Brogan grimaces as he picks up the cup and swallows the warm liquid in one long gulp. When he finishes, he sets the cup down with some force. “Don’t forget we know shit about you too.”
“That’s right.” Archer nods along.
“Well, it’s her turn, so I’m not sure that’s going to help.” He tilts his head toward me.
My nerves ramp up as I roll the ball around in my hand. “They don’t need to razz me because I’m already missing.”
“You can do this.” Hendrick steps closer, sending my heart rate into overdrive. “Take your time. Aim for the middle of the cup.”
“That’s where I’ve been aiming,” I say, then adjust my gaze across the table. “I think. I don’t know. Maybe it’d just be better if I close my eyes.”
My body lights up as he lets out one of those deep chuckles that he holds in so protectively most of the time.
“Don’t do that.” He comes to stand behind me, close enough that I could lean back and rest my back against his chest. One hand gently caresses the bicep of my throwing arm. He brings his face closer to mine. “Nice and easy, Jane.”
I look up and over my shoulder, locking eyes with him. “What if I don’t like nice and easy?”
His brows lift higher and then he barks out a laugh. A full, hearty laugh that makes him look a lot more like Archer.
“I think I’d prefer rough and hard,” I add in case he wasn’t fully appreciating my comment.
He shakes his head like he can’t believe I said it, and his face takes on a bit of a blush like he’s fully imagining how hot we’d be together. It’s a real good image, so I don’t blame him. Me in his lap, straddling him while he kisses me until my lips hurt, and then him stripping me down and commanding my body with all that gruff sexiness.
“Why don’t we just focus on nice and easy right now.” His voice is deeper than it was before.
“I can be easy for the right guy.”
“You’re killing me,” he mutters in an amused tone with another shake of his head. He tears his gaze from mine and steps back.
It’s hard to focus when all I want is for him to come closer and put his hands on me again, but I take a breath, use every ounce of my self-control (very little) and I do as he says: Take my time and aim for the middle of the cup.
When the ball plunks into the beer, Brogan and Archer wear matching shocked expressions.
“Oh my gosh!” I whirl around to a smiling Hendrick. “I did it. We won!”
I jump into his arms. Hugging him around the neck, I bounce in front of him all while continuing to squeal my excitement.
It takes a beat, but eventually his arms circle around my waist and he hugs me back. I stop and look up at him. “We won!”
“I know. You crushed it.”
I’m fully aware that he did ninety percent of the work, but I accept the compliment just the same.
“I demand a rematch,” Brogan says, breaking us apart with his words. “This time, no talking allowed.”
“Oh no,” I say. “I could never stay quiet that long.”
