Page 50 of In The Game

“One night we had dinner together, it was supposed to be a work thing. I told her it wasn’t a date, but when I got to the restaurant, it was clear she thought otherwise. I rejected anything happening between her and me and explained I was hung up on you. I was drunk, and went on and on about you and this connection we shared. She seemed understanding and even offered to help track you down—I was all for it. I told her everything I knew about you.”

Raleigh unwraps her sandwich. “So that’s how she knew I played hockey…” She takes a bite and I’m reminded how sexy she looks when she eats.And my dick twitches thinking about her doing the splits on me again.

“Can you still do the splits?” I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood.

She tilts her head to the side, unamused. I drop it.Way to be, dumbass.

I mumble a half-assed apology and continue. “After dinner, I walked her to her car. She came onto me, I told her no and took an Uber home. Because of the incident, I brought it up to the Lakes organization. She was reprimanded and eventually let go. I’m an idiot for never making the connection there.” My teeth sink into my sandwich.Damn.“I don’t have much of an appetite at the moment, but this is alarmingly good.”

A small smile graces her face, and it feels like a huge win. “Right?”

“I mean, it’s not as good as our first pizza together, but it’s a close second.”

She raises her eyebrows, as if she thought I could forget anything about that night, as if I haven’t replayed it a thousand times in my head. Warmth fills her cheeks. “God, that pizza was bad.”

I smile; it doesn’t seem like that night was so long ago. But the last five years might as well have been a lifetime. Well, Arthur’s lifetime.

“I fucked up, Ral. I never should’ve had her in charge of that shit. There was never any girlfriend. If I’d known, I would have replied to your first DM and asked for your number—another thing I should have done earlier. I have so many regrets.”

She takes a bite of her sandwich and chews while listening to what I have to say.

I can’t believe we’re here sitting at the same table together. She’s right here. “You know, every time I went to a bar, I looked for you, hoping you’d walk through the door. Not sure if that counts for anything…”

She swallows. “I didn’t go out much after our night together. It messed with my head. And then Arthur happened.”

What messed with her head? And I want to know everything about Arthur.

“Can I ask more about that?”

She blots her full lips with a napkin. Her long lashes, honey-cinnamon eyes, and plush lips make me fucking weak. I can’t stop staring.Why didn’t I kiss her when I had the chance? How does she kiss? How long do I have to wait to find out?

“No. Not yet.”

That’s all I get before one of the other customers recognizes me. I’m friendly and take a quick picture, but in that small amount of time, another person notices. All I hear is the ring of herno. And she’s shut down.Goddamn it.

It’s an on-and-off flow of autographs and requests for selfies for the rest of our short lunch together. I’m struggling to keep my patience with fans, but it’s something we’re trained to do. Unfortunately, there’s no time to go in depth and ask her the things I want. Even if there were, it’s not like she’d answer them. I need to get her alone. The more I try to learn, the less she gives me, and before I’m ready, it’s time for me to walk her back to work.

I carry her box of leftovers from the café and hold every door, sparing no opportunity to show her I care.

“Can we have dinner some time?”

She sucks in a breath and holds it while gazing up at me. Her eyes ping-pong between mine. When she finally exhales, she shakes her head. “That’s a big ask. I’d have to get a babysitter, plus I don’t know if I’m ready for anything one-on-one. And”—she looks back toward the café—“that was tough for me, even without the interruptions.”

Distancing herself from me won’t work, she’ll soon find I can be stubborn as fuck when it comes to getting what I want. And I want Raleigh and Arthur.

“That’s fine, you don’t need a babysitter. I could come to you or you could come to me. Just the three of us at home. No fans.”

She combs her hair with her fingers, I’m already learning her subtle nervous habits. I like that she’s contemplating the suggestion. “I dunno... what are we supposed to tell him?”She saidwe.

“I can be an old friend. He doesn’t have to know.” I want him to know, I want to tell him I’m his dad and apologize for not being there, but I’ll agree to any terms that allow me to get my foot in the door. The wheels in her head are turning.

“Can I think about it? He’s not used to me bringing around strange men. I don’t want to confuse him.”

I’m glad he’s not used to it. The relief she gives me with that statement…

“Of course you can.”

“Okay…um, I’ve got to get back.” She throws her thumb over her shoulder, and I hand her the leftovers and Rob’s sandwich. She lifts the box. “Thanks for lunch.”

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