Page 32 of The Game Plan


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Not that I’ve done anal before. But facts are facts.

“Look,” I say when it’s clear he’s going to argue, “you were stupid. She was stupid.”

His hands wrap around my wrists as he looks me in the eye. “I didn’t mean it to come out as a sob story. Logically, I knowall this. But I remember, and I feel ashamed. After that, I just couldn’t tune out those thoughts. I couldn’t do casual sex.A relationship would be all right. But I don’t want someone who wants me because of what I do instead of who I am.”

My heart sinks a little. “Dex, we can’t have a relationship. You live in New Orleans, and I live in New York.”

His eyes drill into me. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you, Cherry. You say what you mean and don’t filter it...”

I wince. “I’ve been working on my filters.”

He flashes a quick, tender smile. “It’s a good quality. I trust you. I’m insanely attracted to you. I want to fuck you. Iwant to know you. I want to be with you. If you want all that from me too, I won’t let something as small as inconvenientliving locations get in the way.”

Holy hell. I can’t even speak.

Letting my wrists go, he searches my face, his expression almost stern. “I want you badly enough to put all my cards on the table, show who I really am. I guess it’s your play now. I’ll understand if what I said turns you off and you’d rather end this.”

His lips press tight, as if he’s forcing himself to say no more, but his eyes never leave mine.

My fingers reach out, trace the corner of his mouth where his beard frames it, just like the first time I touched him. “Ithink, Ethan, I want you more now than before. But a relationship? I have to think about it. Okay?”

He blinks. Then the corner of his luscious mouth curls upward, his gaze going hot as melted chocolate. “Just say the wordand you can have me, Fiona.”

Eleven

Dex

Patience. I have it in spades. I’ve trained myself to use patience as a tool, knowing that the right moment will come, andwhen it does, I’ll take it. But right now, patience is wearing thin. Because Fiona has yet to give me an answer.

Back at Point Reyes, she kissed my cheek and told me she’d have to think about being with me. Not because of my past, shewas quick to reassure, but because she’s afraid to start something that has a clear expiration date.

Frustration rolls through me. I don’t see an end to us, just how good we could be together. I should have stated my case allthose years ago, when I first wanted her. When we lived in the same damn town. Only she had a boyfriend then. And I was toowary to step in between that. Stupid of me.

Maybe we’ll always be off with our timing. But fuck it, I’m not giving this up. No fucking way. Not when I’ve gotten a taste of her. Not when she’s heard my ugliest truths and accepted them without judgment. We can be real together,which is something rare and precious in my world. So, I’m regrouping.

First step: we go out with Ivy and Gray. If I can’t get a date, a double date will do for now. One of Gray’s teammate’s nannyis watching Leo.

We go out for dinner first.

Ivy and Fi entertain us with stories of their childhood and how their dad brought home athletes who are now our heroes.

“Tell them how you won a bet with Jordan when you were six,” Ivy says to Fi.

My girl’s green eyes sparkle as she laughs. “Oh, God.” She takes a drink of her cocktail. “I bet him I could jump higher thanhe could.”

“No way did you beat Jordan,” Gray insists, shaking his head.

“I did so!” Her cheeks flush a pretty, soft pink. “The stakes were a dozen donuts. He went first. And man, he has ups.”

We all nod at that. Fi leans in closer, her voice dropping. “I acknowledged his awesome skills, then took my turn.”

Ivy cuts in. “The little stinker waltzed into our kitchen, so we all followed. And as bold as you please, Fi climbed on thecounter, looked Jordan in the eye and jumped.”

“What?” Gray exclaims. “That’s totally cheating.”

“That’s what Jordan said.” Fi shrugs. “I pointed out that we never said the jump had to start on the floor, and since I didtechnically jump to a higher point, I won.”

I laugh at that. “And you call me slick.”