Page 13 of Playing for Love

“I hope to be there for the first game of the season.”

Gabe looked pained by her lack of plans. The first game was next Sunday and I felt frustrated on his behalf. He finished the call while we ate and chatted about the season opener against their Super Bowl opponent from last year. But as the dinner progressed, I noticed that Gabe lost his appetite and got quiet, letting the lively conversation pass him by. He was definitely not himself.

I felt uncomfortable as he watched me flirt with Tate while we drank wine.

Gabe had nothing but water. He hadn’t even eaten the pasta. His mother and younger sister coaxed him back into a good mood by the time dessert was served. Even though he didn’t eat it, he was at least smiling again. Rising from the table, he excused himself.

After he left, Tate said, “There’s trouble brewing in his relationship. I lay odds it doesn’t last the season.”

“I say he gives Denise a diamond before the season is over.”

“I’ll take that bet. What do I get when I win?” I laughed, nerves percolating because I had no idea why I predicted Gabe and Denise would get engaged when it was the opposite of what I thought. Or the opposite of what I hoped for. Guilt was getting to me.

“Excuse me while I go to the ladies’ room.” I stood and Tate watched me with avid eyes holding as much warmth as they did lust. I walked around the corner down the corridor toward the private restrooms, but I stopped when I heard Gabe’s voice ahead. He was out of sight in the alcove in front of the men’s room doorway. Not moving, I listened, not wanting to interrupt, knowing I should turn around and leave, but hesitated when I heard him say Denise’s name, his voice soft and pleading and unlike anything I’d ever heard from him.

Jealousy jolted up my stiffened spine, freezing me in place to listen.

Curiosity and my soft spot for him had me feeling bad for him and upset with Denise for the games she was playing with him. I heard him say something about not wanting to live like a monk for a month and then it sounded like they agreed she’d come back every other week. Even though I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, I knew Denise was holding out, going on strike, as she put it. And I didn’t trust that she’d hold up her end of the bargain. When he went silent for a few beats, evidently listening to her, I turned and went back to the table. There’d been no reason for me to visit the ladies’ room, not except to check on Gabe. Not for Denise’s sake, but for his. And mine.

Denise’s refusal to visit wasn’t a smart move, in my opinion. Even if Gabe was the most loyal man in the world, why push it? Being so unreasonable could only cause resentment. Denise was going for absence making the heart grow fonder, but in this case, because she was enforcing the absence for no good reason, I would bet my mother’s vintage Chanel suit that her absence would cause nothing but problems.

And I absolutely didn’t want to be in the line of fire when Gabriel Wyatt’s loyalty blew up. Sneaking back to the table, I sat back down next to Tate. He was a hunk and a sweetheart, but I could tell we didn’t have that connection I was looking for. But then, maybe I needed more patience. Maybe I didn’t need the kind of connection that could electrify me. Like the kind I felt with Gabe. Those connections could be dangerous.

“What happened to Wyatt?” Tate said under his breath.

“Why is it a thing with you guys to call each other by your last names?” I deflected.

He shrugged, his bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners, forming lines in his handsome, tanned face. Why do all you guys have chiseled jawlines to go with your obviously chiseled bodies?

“Guess it’s the coach—he calls us by our last names. So we follow suit. At least for now. I’m still new to the team, still fitting in.”

“Doesn’t seem like fitting in would be hard for you to do.”

“No, especially not with Wyatt for a QB. He looks after every player on the team as if we were all superstar prima donnas and he was our water boy. Respects everyone. Unquestionable team leader. Hell, he’d probably be voted the captain even if he was the water boy instead of the QB.”

“What do you mean? What does he do?”

“I’ll give you an example. He took me to dinner first week—before cuts. Took every single new guy to lunch or dinner in the first three weeks of preseason. I don’t know how he didn’t gain twenty pounds of fat.” His smile doubled up, his eyes staying steady on mine while my heart fluttered. But the fluttering wasn’t the effect of Tate’s devastating smile and attention—though it should have been. It was from thinking about Gabe making his new teammates feel welcome.

“It’s his specialty,” I said. “Making people feel welcome. He was like that in college too.”

Tate nodded and I felt the air move, and I caught the scent of Gabe’s aftershave before he pulled the chair out on the other side of me to sit down again.

His mother said, “Everything okay, honey?”

“Everything’s swell, Ma.”

She laughed. I felt his tension ease.

“Then make sure you take home some of that pasta you didn’t eat. Last thing I want to worry about is my boy shrinking down to skin and bones.”

Most everyone at the table laughed at that.

“Not damn likely,” Gabe said. He turned to me, winked, and said, “So what did you overhear?”

I felt the instant blush and tried to remain calm. I dipped my head and whispered.

“Something about you being a monk.”