After shaking hands, the disappointed Nurple king turns and walks away.
Chapter 9
Eve
Tate rejoins us in front of the stadium as the crowd thins. It’s about time. He said he’d be gone for thirty minutes, but it feels closer to an hour. Maybe it’s because I can’t wait to go home or because I feel ridiculous being here with all these young girls, including my daughter, hanging all over the players, but I’m glad he’s back.
A few minutes pass, and Tate hasn’t said a word. He’s unusually quiet, standing there with a fake smile on his face. Not that I know him well enough to read him accurately, but since we met, the man has shown me he has a lot to say. Except now.
“Everything okay?”
His dark, haunting eyes meet mine. An unexplained gloominess rolls off of him. Something happened while he was gone. Now that I think of it, he was on the quiet side during the game, too. Especially for a man who practically broke my door down to convince me to come along. I still don’tunderstand why he wanted me here. It’s not like Gemma and Teddy were going to have sex in front of him.
“Did you get to take a picture with your favorite player?” He asks, leaning close to me with his arms crossed over his chest and changing the subject from him to me.
“No.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t want pictures with them. And I know you’re avoiding my question.”
“I’m fine.” He insists. But the dismissive way he answers screams that he’s anything but. “Besides, I’d rather focus on why you’re not in line. Jonah still has a small crowd around him, but Diego is free.”
“No, thank you.”
His lips quirk up at the corner. “Did you see the amount of people waiting in line for them? Or are you waiting for Jonah?”
I take a quick peek at the player. And I mean player in more than one way. Jonah, who doesn’t look like he’s older than my daughter, stands there with his jersey open and hanging out of his pants, showing off his washboard abs. Why would Tate think I’d want anything to do with him?
“Not interested.”
“Why not?” I can’t tell if he’s serious or if he’s teasing me.
“Because those two are cocky little boys, not men.”
“Men?” He smirks, looking full of himself. “Really?”
Uh oh. That’s not what I meant. It is, but not the way Tate is taking it. The egomaniac thinks I meanhim. How did I allow those words to leave my lips so carelessly?
A light flickers in his dark eyes. I want to look away, but I can’t. They’re magnetic. His smile grows, and his glum mood seems to wane.
“You like real men, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I didn’t mean you.” I’m quick to clarify.
“Um Hmm.” He might as well have a neon sign over his head calling me a liar. If the smug look on his face didn’t say it loud and clear, his overconfident peacock posture says it all.
“Seriously, that came out wrong.” I play with my necklace, feeling heat wash over me. “I meant to say that those boys are too young for me to look at in that way.”
