“What I am, is ready to drag you out of here by the neck of your fucking t-shirt if you don’t leave my date alone. Cool?”
Jared stiffens, his eyes going wide as he looks up at Landon as if suddenly realizing how big the other man is.
“Fine,” he finally mutters. “Fine, whatever, bro.” He turns back to me and suddenly flutters his fingers in front of my face.
“Unmatched, bitch.” He walks backwards away from us, still waving his hands. “Unmatch-”
He’s cut off when he backs right into three biker-looking guys playing pool, who immediately shove him towards the door.
I’m almost crying with laughter as Landon turns back, shaking his head and knocking back the rest of his drink.
“Fucking, Tinder.”
He turns to me, a grin on his face as he shakes his empty glass.
“We should probably we get another round.”
I wipe a tear from my eyes as I look up and just lose myself in his.
“Absolutely.”
Present:
He’s not grinning at me anymore. The smooth talk, that charming, lady-killer grin from that night back in Houston are gone.
And of course, I know exactly why.
Landon Reece – former linebacker for the Rattlesnakes, and before that, college MVP, broken records, the whole nine yards.
Yeah, I might have looked him up since that night.
Now he’s in management, heading the board of directors for the team his uncle, Sam Horn, owns. This team and this field are a kingdom, and the man glaring at me is the next in line for the throne.
Well, or was, I suppose. Until I got added to the mix.
That’s why he’s not smiling anymore. That’s why those sharp, green eyes are narrowed at me; that chiseled jaw clenched tight as the pen he holds in his hand.
We hold each other’s gaze, like stone sentinels, like this is a blinking contest and we’re kids, and the prize is this team.
This is silly.
I didn’t ask for this. Hell, I didn’t even know Sam Horn as anything more than an industry name until ten minutes ago. And yet, here I am about to take over ownership of a major league football team from Denver, Colorado. Despite the fact that I live in Houston. Despite the fact that I already work for a major league team. And it’s certainly despite the fact that my team, the Bulls, are pretty much rivals with Denver.
I blink first, looking away. Like I said, this is silly. This isn’t a contest.
“I’m sorry about your uncle,” I say quietly, hoping it calms this storm between us.
“He’s not actually my uncle.”
I frown. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
“No, he’s - look it doesn’t matter.”
Landon’s eyes narrow at me again.
“Forgive me, Ms. Roth,” he says icily. “But I’m finding it hard to understand how it is I never knew about you when Sam seems to have such high regard for you.”
“Oh, you never knew about me?” I say flatly. “Interesting.”
“In relation to Sam,” he says thinly.
My face sours as I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No,” I say crisply. I don’t need his attitude.
“Do you even know Sam?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Landon’s mouth goes small as he shakes his head.
“Robert, this is fucking ludicrous.”
The attorney takes a deep breath. “Sam’s will is quite specific.”
“Her?”
“I’m standing right here.”
“Believe, me, I noticed.”
Asshole.
He turns back to the lawyer.
“Robert, this is lunacy.”
“These are Sam’s wishes.”
“His insane wishes.”
Robert says nothing.
“This can’t even be within league regulations. She works for a rival team.”
Robert nods as he turns to me. “That will actually need to be cleared up immediately in order to move forward with this.”
I frown. “I actually like my job.”
“Tough,” Landon mutters.
We lock eyes for another second, both of us clearly seething.
After David, and the Facebook crap, and my failed attempt at phone app dating, he was the perfect escape and excuse with which to do it. Gorgeous, charming, just visiting from out of town.
In short, completely unavailable for anything besides getting my clothes off, getting me in bed, and getting my mind off of shitty ex-fiancés and their shiny new “second chance” families.
And yet, the whole point of a one-night thing is for it to be one night. The whole point of an escape like that was the ability to get a little wild, let go, and not worry about the consequences, because there are none. Because you’ll never see that charming, slightly arrogant, impossibly good looking man who works for your rival team ever again.