Loving Him Off the Field(7)
Josiah shrugged and headed out with a wave.
The moment was probably nothing to Josiah. He was a friendly guy. But to Killian, who had barely had contact with anyone besides his coaches and his son in the last few years, it felt like a hell of a lot more.
He slung his bag over one shoulder and weaved his way through the lockers and players in various states of undress to the tunnel that would lead him to the parking lot. There, leaning against one wall, was Freckles.
She smiled slowly as the door to the locker room closed behind him. “That was fast.”
“Why wait?” He started walking, keeping a pace he knew she struggled to keep up with.
But she did anyway. Practically jogging in her Converse, she shuffled sideways to look at him. “Don’t you hang out with anyone after practices?”
“No.”
“After games?”
“No.”
“At all?”
“No. Look, what do you want?” He stopped so suddenly, she nearly fell as she fought to halt her side shuffle. He reached out and grabbed her upper arm. Even to him, considered scrawny in the NFL at five foot ten, she was shockingly small. He could toss her over his shoulder with ease. Carry her around with him for an hour and not notice the weight.
Weird thought.
“Maybe I just wanted to see you.” She straightened, then looked pointedly at his hand. He was still holding her arm, despite having her balance. He let go quickly. “Maybe I have a thing for stubborn guys with sulky attitudes.”
He scowled. “I don’t sulk.” What a stupid thing to say.
One corner of her full mouth tilted up. “You kinda do sulk.”
“No, I—” He shook his head. This was the kind of argument his five year old would love. “Look, just ask for the interview you clearly want, so I can say no, then you can go away.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment. “No.”
“No . . . what? No, you’re not asking for an interview?”
“No.”
He resisted the urge to rip out his hair. “No. What.”
“No, I’m not going away.” She smiled angelically at him. Who knew angels could be so evil? “I have plans. Big plans. And you are a very small—but important—part of those very big plans. My lynchpin, if you will. So you see, Killian Reeves, I can’t just go away.”
“I’m not giving you an interview.”
“Probably not today,” she agreed easily.
“Probably not ever,” he corrected.
Her smile brightened. “You said probably, which isn’t the same thing as never. So see? Already we’re making progress.”
He gaped at her, then kept walking. Not shockingly, she caught up quickly. “You’re an infuriating woman.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Your husband must be a saint.”
“No husband.” She took a few running steps, then planted herself in front of him so he had to stop, or run her over. He seriously debated the latter. “No boyfriend. No real commitments other than work. Which means I can be as tenacious as I want to be. I know what I want, and it’s you.”
The words sparked a heat deep in his gut, but he battled it back. She was a reporter. She wanted to pry straight into his private life. Taking two steps to the left, he walked around her. She did a little hop-step to catch up.
“Go away.”
Suddenly, she stopped and smiled calmly. “Okay.”
Okay? Her sudden, suspicious face into amenable territory had him freezing. “That’s it? Just, okay?”
She shrugged one shoulder, rocking back on her heels. “You said ‘go away.’ So, okay.” She took a few steps to the left, halted, then turned around. “I’m parked that way,” she mumbled with a blush, and ducked her head as she passed him going the opposite direction.
“You can’t just quit like that.”
She waved a hand over her head but didn’t turn around.
He followed. Why the hell was he following her? “What kind of reporter are you?”
She spun to walk backward a few paces. “I’m a nobody, for now.”
“No wonder, if you give up that easily.”
She quirked one side of her lip up. “Would you rather I jump on your back and ride you to your car like an ox?”
I’d rather you jumped on my front and rode me in bed.
Aw, shit. Not right. Not right at all. He stopped, and she kept walking backward, watching him. “Fine. Good.”
“Good,” she echoed. Then, with a little hitch, she did an abrupt face and jogged to the public parking lot. The massive tote purse thing she had slung over her body bounced against her ass, which was so snugly, perfectly covered in faded denim he couldn’t not watch it until it—and she—disappeared out of sight.