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My eyes traverse back over to Skye, and now I see she's sitting in Whittaker's lap. I feel myself growing annoyed and angry. She’s definitely playing her role a little bit too well. I take another gulp of the drink, because even though I don't like it, $1,000 is a lot of money to spend on something just to not drink it, then I grab Skye's glass and head over to the other side of the room.
"Darling," I say, as I stop next to the table, staring down at a laughing Skye.
I see Whittaker's arms wrapped around her waist and it takes everything in me to not grab her out of his lap.
"I have your drink."
"Oh, thank you," she says. "Whittaker, this is my part-time boyfriend. Honey, this is Whittaker Matlock. He's my favorite NHL player ever."
"Oh." I stare at him.
The man looks up at me with amused eyes. I can tell he thinks that I'm an idiot for leaving my woman alone for a second.
"Nice to meet you, Whittaker. I've followed your career for a number of years. My name's Kingston. I'm a?—"
"Hey," he says, nodding, touching Skye on the side of the face as he cuts me off. "Did I tell you yet just how sexy you are, Skye?"
"Yes." She smiles awkwardly and I stiffen as I realize how uncomfortable she seems to be. "But don't say it in front of my part-time boyfriend. I don't want him to be jealous."
"I mean, if he's only part-time, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Whittaker looks up at me again, his eyes assessing me. "Do you?"
“I’m going to say this nicely, but I kind of do mind that your hands are all over my girlfriend," I say, giving him a toothless grin. "But I know how sexy she is and I know how hard it must be for you to resist. But I'm going to have to ask you to desist.” There’s an edge to my voice and I know that I will knock him to the ground if he steps out of line anymore than he already has.
This was a stupid idea.
I keep having stupid ideas.
I am too old and too professional for this crap.
And Skye is too special to me to use her like this. The thought makes my heart race for a few seconds.
Why am I feeling this way?
"Sorry, what?" He blinks at me.
Skye's jaw drops as I grab her hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I think that he's getting a little bit too handsy," I grate out.
I'd noticed that Whittaker's right hand was moving up her thigh, and his left hand was moving closer to her breast. There was no way in Hell I was going to let this man feel up Skye.
"It's fine," she says, whispering in my ear. "It's just a game."
"It's not fine," I say. "I'm not going to let this man touch you just so I can sign him as a client."
She blinks slowly and nods. "I mean, it's not like I was going to let him finger me or anything." I glare at her. "Or play with my nipples. Sure, he was trying to grab my breast, but I wouldn't let him slip his hand in."
"We will talk later," I say.
I stare at Whittaker, who is now glaring at me. "You got a problem, man?" he says.
"Yes, I do. My girl is a fan of yours and she wanted to get your autograph, which I'm okay with. I'm even okay with you flirting with her. But I'm not okay with you touching her when you barely know her. That's not acceptable."
He blinks for a few seconds then jumps up, and I'm scared that he's going to deck me. I'm not scared because I think he's going to hurt me, I'm scared because I know if he does punch me, I will fight him back and have him on the ground within minutes, and the last thing I need is to be in the newspaper for beating up Whittaker Matlock. He definitely would not become my client then. He stares at me for a couple of seconds and I wait for the first blow to come, but he bursts out laughing instead. I feel him squeeze my shoulder.
"You're all right, man."
