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And she deserves that answer. It’s not the easy answer I gave her at first, but I should probably say it. “Because you shouldn’t have to deal with that,” I grumble as we head to the arena. “And before you can say it, I know you had it handled.”
“I did,” she says firmly. “I was going to turn him down. You didn’t have to do it for me.”
True. I didn’t. Guess I wanted him to get the message loud and clear. “Look, I didn’t like his dick joke, and he was getting in your space, and it was rude.”
She whips her gaze to me, brown eyes flickering with curiosity. “You noticed that?”
“I noticed it, and I didn’t like it,” I say. “He looked like he was trying to touch your arm. You kept stepping away. He kept stepping closer.”
“True, but he was never inappropriate.”
“Good. He shouldn’t fucking be,” I say, breathing fumes. There’s a special place in hell for men who don’t listen to women. “Look, I saw the crowd of guys he courts. They’re all kind of…a little crass. Shouting stupid jokes. I could tell you didn’t want to be near any of them, let alone him. I took care of it. So sue me.”
She chuckles, rolling her eyes too. “So sue me? That’s your answer?”
“Well, yeah,” I say as we reach the crosswalk.
While we wait, she pins me with her sharp gaze. “See, Max? You do something borderline nice, then you’re kind of flippant.”
I arch a brow. “Was that nice? Not sure I’d agree.”
“It was a nice intention,” she says.
I shudder.
“Aww. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone about your kind thoughts,” she says.
“Good,” I say, as the pedestrian light blinks green. We’re quiet as we cross, and she seems like she’s mulling something over. When we reach the other side, she tilts her head in question, her brow furrowed, like she’s adding something up that doesn’t quite equate. “You heard the whole thing. You were in line right as he was asking me out?”
I take the alibi she’s offering—the idea that it was a coincidence. Like in a movie when the guy overhears the villain monologuing. Mostly it was. I won’t let on I’d popped into the shop for a cup of coffee, but when I heard those dick jokes I hung around, keeping an eye out. Good thing. I’d figured it’d be a fan getting fresh with her instead of the owner of the shop and the podcast network. So yeah, maybe I was on patrol. Not like I’m going to tell her. She doesn’t need to know I was playing the bodyguard. “Yup. Needed a morning boost. Glad I left that calico at the cat café when I did. But she was so darn cute,” I say, then since I don’t want any of this to seem like a big deal, I nod toward the players’ entrance. “I should go join my teammates for practice. I like to give them a target they can’t get past.”
“Actually,” she says, but her expression is soft and so is her voice, “there’s something I need to discuss with you.”
That sounds serious. “Let me guess. I’m in trouble again.”
“Would that even matter?”
“Probably not,” I reply before she pulls me aside outside the arena entrance to a quieter area.
She moves closer to me now, so close I’m distracted by the whoosh of her hair in that high ponytail, the way it swishes as she moves into my space. “Lyra’s in town. I don’t know if you know.”
The blood drains from my face. “Seriously?” I croak out.
It’s not my ex I don’t want to see. I’m so over the woman I was going to propose to.
It’s the attention that comes with her. The attention that comes to me. I’d give my left nut if it would erase from existence the breakup song she wrote about me. The one that was a lie. But, then again, I like both nuts a whole helluva lot. Maybe I’d give up my spleen to make “Surprise Me”disappear from every playlist in the world and public memory.
“She’s doing a surprise show,” Everly adds.
“How nice,” I mutter.
“I’ve got it covered,” she says, then holds up a finger. Quickly, she scans her phone, then looks up. “I checked with security for the Seattle team. There’s a back exit out of the locker room that’ll help you avoid the press. I can let the team bus know what time and to look for you, and you should be able to leave unnoticed after the game.”
Wow. I’m seriously grateful for that. And for what’s unsaid. She won’t even ask me to talk to the media tonight. “Thanks. Appreciate it,” I say, then I square my shoulders. “I do.”
“And don’t worry. This changes nothing.” She narrows her eyes and holds up a finger. “You get one night off from my requests. And then it is on again.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
