Page 56 of Irresistibly Risky

That would be a definite no. “I can meet you somewhere,” I offer instead.

He slips across the ice on his sneakers and then removes the phone from the side of my leggings, unlocks it with my face, and types something in. “This is where I want to take you.”

He sends a text.

“This is also my number. Meet me there at eight?”

I gulp. Something in his chocolate brown eyes hits me strangely, but I push it away. “See you then.”

He hands me my phone and then walks off the ice, leaving me to myself once more. Only now I have a date tomorrow night.

* * *

Me: How did your press conference go this morning?

Player: It went pretty well. I answered a lot of questions. Made you the star of the show.

Me: *eye roll emoji* Great! That’s my favorite thing to be. I’m glad it went well though.

Player: Me too. It’s a relief to have it done. Where are you? You’re not home.

Me: Nope. I’m not. I’m at my parents’. Mason is spending the night here and I had to drop him off.

Player: Oh. Okay. I guess that’s better actually because I have plans tonight.

Me: Good for you. I do too. That’s why he’s staying there.

Player: What kind of plans?

Me: You tell me yours first.

Player: I’d rather not.

Me: Same.

Player: I don’t like this.

Me: Get used to it. I gotta go. It’s getting late. Glad your press conference went well.

Player: Queen, what kind of plans do you have?

Player: Will I see you later tonight?

Player: You are sleeping at the condo, right?

Player: Why aren’t you answering me?

Player: Wynter! Answer me. Tell me you’re sleeping at the condo tonight. Or at your parents’ place.

I stuff myself into a dress I haven’t worn in years and twist my hair around a curling iron until it’s in soft, tight waves. I draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man and paint a smoky dusting of shadow over it. Then I curve red around my lips because red makes me feel like a warrior.

I gave Mason dinner and a bath, and then my mom shooed me out the door with a knowing smile. I nearly canceled this date a dozen times today. My heart isn’t in it. I had turned off my phone after I told Asher I had to go. I don’t want to text him, but now as I sit in the back of the Uber heading to the restaurant, I turn my phone back on just in case my mom needs to reach me.

And when it powers on and all of Asher’s texts come through, I sigh, reading through his frantic texts. With a shake of my head, I put it back in my purse. I don’t know where I’m sleeping tonight—the condo or my parents’—but I don’t feel inclined to answer him.

“Hell, get yourself laid.”

“Okay, set it up.”

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