Page 23 of Imperfect Player

He doesn’t do much dining out, yet here he is with me.

“Then what made you pick this place?”

“A lot of the guys have been here, said they had great food. I do love a good steak.”

“Me too,” I agree as I glance over the menu. “The filet sounds amazing.”

“That’s my favorite too.”

When the waiter comes back, he brings a bottle of wine and sets it next to the table. He fills my glass, then fills Ethan’s with water.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Ethan says, gesturing to the wine glass. “You looked like a wine drinker to me.”

“Oh, really? What about me screams wine drinker? My distaste for whiskey?”

“Admit it. You liked the whiskey. Or at least how it made you feel.”

“Maybe,” I say, refusing to admit anything to him because it almost feels like defeat. “But yes, I love wine. Thank you.”

“So, how do you like working with Prescott?”

“Maddox? He’s great. Easy to work with. Very agreeable.”

“Is that some sort of dig?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not unagreeable. Disagreeable? Whatever, I’m not a pain in the ass. I’m . . . selective.”

“Selective, huh? I’ve seen some of your dates. It doesn’t look like you’re all that selective to me.”

He chokes on his sip of water as he laughs at my comment.

“Those ‘dates’ are just sex. But the things in my life, things I actually care about? That’s where I become a picky son of a bitch.”

“Such as?”

“The team I play for. The endorsements I refuse because they’re all bullshit. The people I spend my time with.”

“Like me?”

“Just like you.” He pauses for a moment. “I feel like I need to set something straight. Set some . . . parameters.”

“Parameters?”

“I like spending time with you, Everly.”

Ethan’s words are unexpected and welcome. The fact that there is a ‘but’ coming is undoubtedly obvious.

“I like spending time with you too.”

“The thing is, when I said that you deserve better than me, I meant it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I like you, Everly. I like talking to you. I like spending time with you. But that’s it. That’s all this can be.”

“What you’re saying is . . . you want to be friends?”

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