Page 51 of Craving the Player

As if sensing my discomfort, she swaps the attention to me. "What do you do? You've never talked about your work."

"Itrain and fight at my dad'sboxing gym. Idon'tdo anything as glamorous as you." Icrave to feel the same amount of pride in what Ido as she does. I'mnot ashamed of my job, but Ican’thelp but feel like it pales in comparison to hers. When it comes to being even merely successful, Ileft that up to everybody else Iknow.

"That explains Logan'sbroken nose. You have one hell of apunch," she giggles, eyes sparkling. My chest puffs at her compliment before deflating just as quickly. "Maybe Icould come watch you sometime?"

Her question takes me off guard. She wants to come watch me beat someone up? She doesn'tseem like the violence type, although she did enjoy watching me hit Logan. But isn'tthat different? He at least deserved that. The guys that Ifight do it solely because they love the feeling of it. There are no chances to back away once the beating starts. They’re stuck there until the pain brings them to the brink of surrender.

"Inever took you for the violence type,” Itease. "But if you really want to go, Ihave afight tomorrow night. Ican get Clayton to pick you up."

"Oh, you wouldn’tbe picking me up?" Sierra doesn’tmeet my eyes when she asks, and the pink colouring her cheeks has me grinning so wide that I’msure she thinks I’malunatic. She’sdisappointed that Iwon’tbe the one picking her up and embarrassed that she felt the need to ask. There’saheavy, impossible to ignore feeling of triumph threatening to take flight in my stomach.

“I’ll be at the gym too early getting everything ready. But Ipromise that Clayton will take care of you. He won’tspend another day on this earth if he doesn’t.”

Sierra seems happy enough with my answer, her eyes burning brighter than afew minutes ago. The way she’slooking at me has my breath catching in my throat as Istruggle to swallow back the urge to jump over the table and sit down beside her. Iwant to pull her tight enough that we could be super glued together.

The waiter returns and slides his eyes over Sierra’sempty plate of pancakes before asking, "Everything going good over here? Iwould say so.”

He’steasing her, but Iknow immediately that Idon’tlike it. Iwant him gone ASAP. Especially when Sierra flushes with embarrassment, and drops her eyes to her lap.

No, Idon'tthink so. Nobody embarrasses Sierra but me.

Grinding my teeth together, Ipush my plate towards him, letting it scrape across the table to grab his attention. Ispeak when his eyes finally fall on me. "Iwant the bill."

His chin dips in acknowledgment while he reaches in his apron and pulls out apiece of paper. After he places it down on the table, Iswipe it with aforced smile.

"Thanks, Wilson.” Iscowl, eyeing the shiny nametag on his chest.

"I'll be back in afew minutes with the machine.” Idon’tacknowledge him and he leaves without another word.

"Ithink it'shot that you have ahealthy appetite, babe. Don'tlet that nerd embarrass you." The pink on her cheeks slowly diminishes as she gives me aweak smile, meeting my laid back gaze. I'mnot just blowing smoke up her ass, despite the slight disbelief in her eyes.

The number of girls that I’ve hooked-up with that refused to eat for my benefit is such aturn-off. Guy'sdon'tlike that shit. Idon'tknow where they even got that idea from in the first place. Probably from low-lives like Sierra’sex-boyfriend.

"You don'thave to pay for my food.” She reaches across the table and attempts to grab the bill from my hand. Ipull it to my chest before she has the chance.

"If you want it so bad, you can always come and grab it." Icock ataunting brow, daring her to try. She huffs, exposing her irritation with me, but decides to sit back and glare at me instead of falling into my trap and giving me what Iwant.

"You're achild."

"Not the first time that I've heard that, sunshine."

"Sunshine? Really? Is little fighter not good enough anymore?"

"Are you saying that you like it when Icall you my little fighter?" Ismirk, obsessed with the way she can’thelp but fight me on everything. Isit further into the booth and cross my arms for afew seconds, waiting for her to push me on it but she doesn’t. "That'swhat Ithought, baby."

"Where is that damn waiter? It'sbeen longer than afew minutes," she rambles, physically flustered. Her fingers brush at her hair, toying with the fallen ends. She slips her lip between her teeth, chewing on it anxiously.

Oh yeah, Igot her right where Iwant her.

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