Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Never?”
I shake my head. “I’m all about the casual.”
“Oh,” she says.
“Until now,” I say, and her pretty eyes snap back to me. “I’ve never wanted to bring a woman out to a fancy restaurant to spoil her. I’ve never invited a woman to my games or to go out with me after. Please don’t hold this against me, but I played the field and I never went out with someone more than a few times.”
She looks at me skeptically. “A love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy, huh?”
“Never love,” I correct her. “Meaning… I’ve never been in love. Not sure if that makes me lucky or not.”
“That’s actually profound,” she says, her hazel eyes locked on me.
“Some would say that makes me skeptical,” I point out.
“I think it makes you discerning and cautious.”
And that right there is the correct answer. I don’t tell her that I’ve never even thought about what a relationship could mean to my world… until I met her. She might think it disingenuous.
“This is pretty far outside your comfort zone,” she observes, fingertips circling the top of her wineglass. “Which makes me appreciate it more. So, thank you for a lovely evening.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “It’s nowhere near over yet.”
She laughs, soft and tinkling but still reaching my ears over the noise of dozens of voices in low conversation, as if the sound were made for me. It’s happened on a few occasions with Winnie… like I’ve been hit over the head.
“You’re staring at me.” Her lips curve upward, eyes curious.
“Yeah. I’m trying to figure out if this is one of those dreams where I wake up covered in Buttermilk’s fur.”
She snorts into her wine. “You think my rabbit’s fur is dream residue?”
“Pretty sure he shed judgment on me last time.”
Winnie dabs her lips with a napkin, her grin lingering. “He’s actually a good judge of character.”
“Great. So I’m killing it on all fronts.”
Before she can respond, the server brings our food. I watch as Winnie snaps her fingers at me, an order to hand over my plate. She cuts a third of the steak and places it on her plate and heaps pasta onto mine before passing it back.
While we eat, I notice two girls at the bar staring at me and pointing—and not with much stealth. I hope to God they don’t come over here because while I normally don’t mind getting interrupted by fans, I don’t want to share tonight with anyone else. More importantly, I don’t want Winnie to get spooked. Gushing fans are not the norm for most people and something tells me Winnie’s going to have a hard time with that aspect of my life.
Luckily, the women stay put and we finish dinner without interruption. By the time dessert comes—one shared crème brûlée and two spoons—her leg is tucked casually against mine beneath the table, like it’s always been natural for us to touch.
It’s getting close to ten p.m. when we step outside into the crisp night air. I know Winnie has to work tomorrow and I’ve got another home game. After that, I have one free day and then I’m on a road trip that will take me away for another four days. I’m slightly frustrated that my career is an obstacle to having time to go on dates with Winnie, but we’re managing to navigate it.
I hesitate. “You want to go somewhere else?”
She glances up at me. “Like where?”
Before I can answer, the door to the restaurant swings open and the two women who were at the bar come walking out, their eyes locked on me. I know without a doubt they followed us.
“Lucky.” This from a woman with dark red hair spilling down her back, a sexy black dress and insanely high heels. “Hi… um… we’re big fans.”
I cringe at her breathy tone, something that would have had me grinning like a Cheshire Cat just a few weeks ago.
Here we go.
I nod, polite but not overly welcoming. “Thank you. Always nice to hear that.”
She lights up because I replied to her and her companion, a woman with dark brown hair and hazel eyes nowhere near as pretty as Winnie’s, steps forward. “I love your TikToks. And your passes. You’re, like, my boyfriend’s man crush. Think I can get a photograph? He’ll die.”
“Glad I could help your relationship,” I say with a chuckle, but my eyes cut to Winnie. I don’t know how to describe her expression other than it’s a little too blank for my comfort. There’s no overt dislike of the situation but no understanding smile either. I look back to the woman.
Just wide green-gold eyes taking in the perception of fame.
“I love your TikToks too,” the redhead says. “I’d love a photograph too.”
“Of course,” I say and take a minute to pose with each of them individually while the other woman snaps photos with their phones. I pull a Keanu Reeves, not wrapping my arm around either as we pose, instead holding it out and away from them. It doesn’t stop either one from practically snuggling into me.