Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(131)
“No, forget it, you’re right.” He’s up and yanking his pants on with his back to me, and my heart drops as I realize the fantasy veil of last night has completed dropped and we’re standing in the naked reality of today.
“Mistakes happen, right?” He shrugs and flashes a thin smile at me, and right there I see his armor go right back up.
“You should get to that interview, I’ll- I need to-” He’s at the door, opening it slowly as he peaks out and checks the hallway; “I’ve got some shit to do anyways.” He turns and looks at me coo;ly; “Don’t worry, we’ll pretend this whole little mistake never happened.”
And just like that, he’s slamming the door behind him and slamming the chapter shut on whatever happened last night.
Fuck.
I subtly peep under the table at the phone I’ve ever-so-secretly slipped out of my purse. There are plenty of messages of course, but I frown when I see that his number isn’t among them. Part of me hoped he’d still just show up at my first interview today, but he never did.
“Oh, stop it, Ray!”
I glance up, trying to look as innocent as possible as Quinn glares at me from across the diner table, even though I know she’s busted me; “What?” Leave it to family to totally burst your bubble on feeling subtle or sneaky.
“We said no phones! That’s what!”
I roll my eyes, “Quinn, you do know I’m running for State Sen-”
“Yeah and when you win, you’ll have even less time for your boring, non-famous sisters.” Chelsea butts in.
Ten minutes; we’ve been sitting at lunch for ten minutes and they’re already ganging up on me. I sigh dramatically as I slip the phone back in my bag and sling it over my chair; “Fiiiine. So what should we talk about?”
“How about the fact that you’re a major political figure and you’re still dragging us to shitty brunch diners like this place.” Quinn says, wrinkling her nose at the plain white cup of coffee in front of her.
“Hey, this place is an institution, you know. Plus it’s freaking delicious; I’d eat here every day if it wouldn’t give Donald and Erika conniptions.”
“And what would Hudson think?”
Chelsea’s snarky grin catches me off-guard, and I stumble; “W-What do you mean?”
“I mean about you eating pancakes and scrambled cheesy eggs every day.”
I shrug as nonchalantly as I can; “I’m sure I’ve got no idea what he thinks about anything.”
Like, me, for instance.
Quinn grins at me, and I steel myself, afraid she’ll sniff out what I’m really thinking about him like some sort of sex-bloodhound; “So how is spending all that time with Hotsun going, anyways?”
I groan; “Qui-”
“What?! Have you fucking seen him!” She says with mock indignance; “He’s like-”
“Packaged sex.” Chelsea butts in, making the two of them devolve into giggles and my face into total guilty embarrassment.
“Guys, he’s not-”
“Oh my God, Ray, why are you fighting her on that? She’s totally right and you know it. Hudson is like, James Bond, but with super hot tattoos and a body off the cover of a romance novel.” She arches her eyebrows at me; “Hey, I mean if you don’t want that, I mean I’m single-”
“Quinn I think you stole quite enough boyfriends from me in high school.”
They both immediately beam at me as I realize my slip-up and die a little inside.
“Oh. My. God.” Quinn’s jaw drops.
“Guys, no, that is not what I-”
“No fucking way!” Chelsea stares at me with a grin on her face. She and Liz turn towards each other and start giggling again.
“Wait, no, it is not like- stop that!” People are starting to turn and look our way, and even in this greasy little diner in midtown, I know it’s a matter of time before someone realizes who I am and starts to get really interested in what we’re talking about so animatedly.
“Guys, seriously!” I hiss; “Keep it down!”
Chelsea is beaming at me; “Hudson fucking Banks?”
“I think it’s more ‘Hudson fucking our sister’, actually.” Quinn quips, with the predicted giggle from Chelsea and the deeper shade of red on my face.
I shake my head much to animatedly; “No way, of course not, he’s horrible.”
Quinn shrugs; “Well, I mean he’s crude I guess, but horrible?”
“Ugh! He’s one of Dad’s thugs!” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, me or them.
“So?” Chelsea shrugs; “Ok, he worked for Dad; big deal. It’s not like he’s our brother or something.”