Page 88 of Game Changer

My lips curve.

“You sound tired. You should take a nap,” she goes on. The humor in her voice is barely veiled.

“Maybe I should.”

“Don’t forget to wear the cute dress. For your nap.”

I laugh.

“Hey, Brooke? Thank you. That means a lot.” She’s being exceedingly cool about me changing our plans, especially since she came to LA for me in the first place.

“No worries. I’ve got your back.”

After we hang up, another text chimes.

Grumpy Baller: Meet you out front in an hour.

I go to my closet and pull out the dress I brought for tonight. It’s short and silver with tiny straps, and the bottom hits mid-thigh. It’s a little over the top, especially with the silver shoes Brooke gave me.

After the game, I showered and washed my hair, blow drying it straight before setting it in soft waves.

Now, I do my makeup—smoky eyes and nude lips.

The effect is pretty damn good. When I step into the dress and heels, I’m bubbling with nervous anticipation.

I grab my leather jacket and toss it on before sneaking a look at myself in the mirror. I look hot and sophisticated, but I still feel like me.

When I get down to the car, Clay looks up at me from his phone, and his expression goes slack. “You’re gorgeous.”

The words are soft and edgy, like a curse muttered under his breath.

“You look good yourself.” I take in the button-down shirt that clings to his muscled chest and shoulders, the dark pants hugging his hips.

He holds the back door of the limo for me, and I shift inside.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner but I need to make a stop first.” Clay takes up half the back seat of the limo. “I was watching you tonight in the stands.”

“Oh, is that why we lost? I’ll send Coach a fruit basket as an apology.”

Clay chuckles, his entire chest rumbling.

“You looked like you guys were getting into it.”

“We have different ideas about how to solve problems. Plus, Rookie should’ve been better.”

“Will you talk to him about it?”

“He’s got to figure some shit out on his own.”

Clay pulls my back to his front, a strong arm around my ribs. Arousal dances in my stomach.

I think of Brooke’s words about having fun.

I shift in my seat, crossing one leg over the other.

His touch skims down my side to my thigh, slipping toward the hem of my dress.

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