Page 4 of Imperfect Player

Apology accepted. He still doesn’t release my arm. “Let me make it up to you.”

I’m not sure what it is that he’s trying to make up for. The spill? The butting into something that doesn’t concern him? The . . . sexy look in his eyes?

“Not necessary.”

“It is to me. Please?”

Why in the hell is he being so insistent?

“And how exactly do you intend on making it up to me?”

His eyes sparkle as his lips curve into a smile. “Dance with me?”

Dance with him? Is he serious?

My answer should be an immediate no. He’s a client. Yet here I am feeling like a schoolgirl that just got asked to dance by the star quarterback. In a way, I guess that’s exactly what I am. I’m an agent, a nobody. And he’s . . . Well, he’s a star all right. A highly sought after, sexy-as-hell pitcher for the top team in the league.

Ethan walks to the bathroom door and opens it for me, sweeping his arm out before him, giving a slight bow as he does. He’s not taking no for an answer. In fact, I’m pretty sure no isn’t a word he’s ever even heard before.

In silent acceptance, I walk past him. The moment I do, his hand is on the small of my back, leading me to the dance floor.

We face each other, eyes locking. His arms are outstretched, inviting me in. I take a step toward him. His hands reach for my waist and pull me against him until my body is firmly planted against his hard, strong, solid one. His hold is possessive, secure, as though he’s protecting me in some way. I like it. I like it more than I should.

When he speaks, the deep timbre of his voice settles in my belly.

“So, Everly Mann, are you enjoying the party?”

Christ, he sounds sexy even asking the simplest of questions.

The truthful answer is, I am—now. I know full well how that will sound though, and while I might be dancing with the man, I have no intention of flirting with him. He’s a client. Work. Off limits.

“Yes and no. Honestly, it’s been stressful more than anything.”

“Stressful? Why?”

“I planned the event. The happiness of everyone in the room is resting on my shoulders.”

“Wow, that’s quite a load to bear.”

“I want things to go well for Tripp. Tonight’s important to him.”

Ethan looks around the room. “Pretty sure you can stop worrying. Everyone seems to be having a great time.”

His smile illuminates his face, displaying every gorgeous feature on it. The deep dimples on his cheeks, the chiseled jaw line hidden beneath the five o’clock shadow he’s sporting. His eyes are filled with amusement and mischief.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure that the happiness of everyone in the room is more dependent on how strong the drinks are rather than if you picked the right centerpiece. Which you totally did, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I say with a laugh. “And I suppose you have a point.”

There’s something in how he says it that allows my body to finally relax. Ethan can feel it too. He holds me a little tighter, our bodies pressed together. This time when he smiles at me, the smile makes its way to his eyes and entrances me. Who knew brown could sparkle? I am lost not only in the sparkly pools of chocolate but also the comfort of his embrace. It’s like a warm coat, making me feel safe and secure, allowing my worries to slip away without even thinking about it.

Ethan is nothing like I expected. He’s funny and charming. The player, the bad boy, all the things I’ve heard about him are nonexistent in this moment.

When the song ends, neither of us lets go. Even as the new song begins, something with a quick tempo, we stay standing in the middle of the dance floor, arms around each other, neither of us wanting this moment to end. I’m completely content being lost in the moment, the feeling—him.

Only the things I’m feeling, I shouldn’t. Not just because of his reputation or the fact that I swore off dating athletes after Kai, but because on top of all that, he’s also a client. Maybe not mine, no. But he’s still a client of Advantage Player, and that’s more than enough to make him off limits.

So then why is it so hard to walk away?

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