Page 52 of Imperfect Player

Once upon a time, I enjoyed this. Watching the guys act like fools. Occasionally acting like one myself. I’ve been so focused on the straight and narrow that I forgot to have a little fun too.

Everly’s at my side laughing, her hand covering her mouth.

“I apologize for their behavior,” I tell her. “They were obviously born in barns.”

I nod toward her empty glass. “Another drink?”

She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I should be going.”

I don’t want her to go. I’m not ready for this night of fun and laughter with her to end.

“You’re looking pretty tense. You should stay and relax.”

I plaster a smile on my face. It spreads across my cheeks from ear to ear. It’s laced with mischief and just a twinge of innocence for good measure. It always works. Women can’t resist it.

My hands reach for her waist, pulling her close. I don’t speak, just look at her. It’s enough.

Usually.

Her smile mirrors mine, yet she won’t budge. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Fine, we’ll go.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

My eyebrows dart up. “You came with me; you’re leaving with me.”

She opens her mouth to protest—some independent women shit, I’m sure.

“No arguments.”

I give a quick round of goodbyes to the guys, then with my hand on her lower back, I escort her out of the bar. The entire way, I can feel Maddox’s gaze on me.

We make our way to my car, and I open the passenger door for her.

She giggles. I think it’s more because of the wine than the gesture because I did open the door for her when we left the stadium. I’m sure of it. Regardless, she’s laughing and I’m happy, so who fucking cares.

“Who knew you were such a gentleman?”

“Who said I wasn’t?” I ask.

“No one, I guess. Just the whole athlete, player persona. I thought you would be different.”

“Believe me, I’m different.”

“And trouble.”

“That too. Just not in the way you think.”

As the car rolls down the street, I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. Hell, I would even settle for just holding her hand.

I should be taking her home, but instead I drive the car to my place, because if I’m honest, I’m not ready for tonight to end.

“Where are we?” she asks.

There’s a confused look on her face as she looks outside the window, then back to me.

“My place.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Come on, are you really ready for tonight to end? I know I’m not.”

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