“So, my games? I’ll have my assistant call you with all the arrangements. I’ll send a car for you. And a few of my jerseys, of course.” He sips his coffee while I stare at him, wide eyed. “What about the away games? I know it’s the end of the school year, but if you can manage it, let Kendall know.”
“Who the hell is Kendall?”
“Kendall is my assistant, andhe,” he emphasizes he, “will take care of everything.” He sighs and takes my hand, causing me to drop my bacon. “I must say, that little bout of jealousy was unexpected, but not the least bit unappreciated.”
I snort and pull my hand from his. “That wasn’t jealousy. That was me wondering out loud why you’re sitting here inmykitchen giving me orders. That’s what that was.” I poke his chest with my index finger to make my point.
“Your kitchen, your rules, yeah?”
I nod. “Fuck yeah.”
He flinches but says, “Fine. Next time, you’ll stay with me, and I’ll be the one giving the orders while Myra cooks breakfast.” He puts his fingers to my lips. “Myra is my fifty-five-year-old cook. No need to be jealous.”
I swat his hand away and say, “Don’t flatter yourself, and I don’t want to go to your games. This,” I say, gesturing between us, “is not a relationship.”
“Are you trying to pressure me into a commitment, Victoria? I never took you for the manipulative type, but if a relationship is what you—"
I put a finger to his lips to silence him. He kisses my finger and playfully bites it. While I gather my thoughts, he takes my plate of food and starts to eat it.
“I don’t do relationships,” I remind him.
“Right. Of course, not. But, you see, the thing is, I don’t do random hookups, so I guess we’re at an impasse.”
Still using his hands, he breaks off some of my eggs and puts it to my mouth. It’s too close. Too intimate, and I want to move my head away, but I open my mouth and take it. To tease him, I suck on his fingertips before letting him go.
“Yeah, I don’t let random women suck on my fingers, regardless of how beautiful they are. It just so happens that I don’t want to be in a relationship with you either.”
I pretend to dramatically exhale and wipe my forehead in relief. “Well, then, conversation over.” I grab my fork and reach into my plate, but he moves it out of the way to feed me.
“Right. I mean, why would I want to be tied down to a beautiful, sexy, smart woman like you? You only speak three languages.” He leans close and says, “Do you have any idea how sexy that is? Wherever we go, I’m going to have the smartest woman on my arm. Everyone’s going to be so jealous of me.” He laughs to himself, and I do everything in my power to suppress my own amusement.
“We’re not going anywhere together. I can do way better than you,” I add. “When I am ready and willing to commit, that is.”
He shrugs. “Undoubtedly, you can do better, but unfortunately for you, I’m what you’re gettin'.” He takes my hand and wraps both of his around it. He kisses it three times and stops. I look up and lock eyes with his. “I want you to come to my games, at least the home games for now.”
“For now? Whoa. What you’re suggesting sounds like a—"
“Relationship? You mean the thing that two adults have when they are into each other? Especially after a night of unbridled passion the likes of which neither one of them had ever experienced before?” He puts a hand to his heart. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“Who says I’ve never experienced it before? You think highly of yourself.”
He picks up my hand again and brings it to his lips. The gentle touch of his lips on my skin causes something to stir in the pit of my stomach.
“Maybe I’m the one who’s never had it before.”
I watch as he eats the rest of my food. I sip my coffee and wait for him to look up at me. His hair is so big and messy, my fingers itch to try and tame it. He’s still shirtless, and I take my time admiring his body. His skin is tanned and smooth. He has no blemishes, and unlike some of his teammates, he has no tattoos.
What are you doing, Victoria?
He clears his throat and I look up to find him staring at me.
“And not that I’m into you, but what are your reasons for not being into me again?” He stands and goes into my fridge. He pulls out a casserole dish containing a half chicken from last night. He sits down and rips the drumstick out and starts to eat. Disgusted, I look away.
“Many reasons, but we’ll add your eating habits to the list.”
“Right. A little bit of a caveman. So, what if I agree to use a knife and fork from now on? And I won’t eat your food either.”
I stare at him, pretending not to understand what he’s saying. I arch an eyebrow and wait for him to say more.
