Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(8)

Lost in that look? Tongue-tied like some sort of schoolgirl?

Drunker than I think I am?

I blink again, forcing myself to focus. “Your wife, huh?”

He grins, that cocky, utterly confident smirk I saw earlier. “I think I saw that in a movie. Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

“It did,” I bite my lip as I smile back at him.

God he’s attractive.

“So, thanks for that.”

There’s a cough behind him, and we both turn to see his friend with the glasses standing there. “So, I guess we’re done for the night?” the man says flatly.

My Texas-drawled savior nods and shrugs casually. “I think we are, Derek.”

There’s a note of thinly veiled sarcasm in his voice, and Derek’s eyes dart meaningfully to me before narrowing at my stranger. “Try and at least give half a shit about what I just said, Austin.”

“Loud and clear.”

Derek gives me a thin smile before he shakes his head and walks away.

Austin - my stupidly attractive savior has a name apparently - turns back, that cocky grin on his face. “So.”

He winks at me, half a smile cocked across his jaw. “So…did you want a selfie or something?”

I frown quizzically. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

The corners of his lips pull up in a grin. “You don’t want an autograph or something like that?”

“I-” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, is this like a game or something?”

His brow furrows as he peers at me again, almost curiously. “No, I mean…” he grins suddenly and shakes his head. “You’re not really a TV person, are you?”

“Who the heck watches TV anymore? Ever heard of Netflix?” The sass comes out of me with zero filter as I reach for my martini and do my best impression of a movie-star sip, hoping to hell it looks smooth and sexy instead of sloppy and drunk.

He laughs, the sound easy and warm. “Fair enough.”

I can feel my pulse racing through my veins like I’ve just run up and down a flight of stairs as I lose myself again in those hazel eyes. I’m lightheaded - dizzy from the gin and the total lack of food, not to mention the bomb dropped on me barely two hours ago in Vince’s office.

I cringe at the thought - right, when I left the man I was silly enough to think I was going to marry.

And suddenly, all of it comes rushing back - opening the door to his office and seeing them like that, my stomach dropping through the floor, the “Daddy’s Girl” tattoo on her thigh.

I stand quickly and abruptly, and suddenly grab onto the back of my chair as I wobble on my heels.

And then his hand is there, light but firm on the small of my back as he steps forward to steady me. “Whoa, easy there, princess.”

I smile, my booze-flushed face going even redder. “Thanks, I’m- I’m fine, I just need to go lie down in my room for a while.”

Well, there goes my bid for “smooth and sexy” over “drunk and sloppy.”

I sigh heavily as I shrug. “I’ve- it’s been a weird freaking day.”

He grins and chuckles. “Sounds like we’ve had the same day.”

“Believe me, we haven’t.”

I go to take a step, but suddenly stumble again as my heel catches on the edge of the carpet. I lurch forward, my hands catching on his bare, inked forearm.

“Whoa, hang on, let me get you there in one piece.” My eyes dart quickly to him, the heat hot in my cheeks, and he quickly frowns and shakes his head. “I just mean to the elevator, princess.”

My cheeks blush again as I quickly look away.

Of course that’s what he meant.

“Yeah, thanks, that’d be great.”

His arm goes around my waist, his hand holding me firmly by the hip against his side as he slowly walks me across the bar to the hotel lobby. I can feel the heat of his body blooming through my skin like a hot flush, sending shivers down my back, making me dizzy, and making me bite my lip as he floats me towards the elevators.

Lord, what is wrong with me.

The doors to an empty elevator opens, and I’m feeling silly at how reluctant I am to leave the warmth of that hand on my hip and that body so close to mine.

“So, yeah, thanks again for…you know.”

“Lying about you being my wife?”

I blush as the grin creeps drunkenly over my face. “Yeah, that.”

“Anytime.”

I start to step into the elevator when I stop and turn back to him, as if I need to somehow prolong this moment. “Now, do you want a selfie?”

He laughs, the sound so easy and so effortless as he winks at me. “Maybe I’ll take a rain check on that.”

I step into the elevator, my eyes locked on his standing right outside of it. And it could be the booze, or the free-fall rush of the day’s events. It could be that sneering grin on Vince’s secretary’s face.