Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(41)

“I’m not taking a woman back to my place and spending the night with her when I literally paid for her company an hour earlier. It’s underhanded and wrong. And don’t give me crap about how it’s not like that. To me, it’s wrong. I’m not a guy who can’t control himself. So this is me, controlling myself.”

She started to speak, then closed her mouth and looked away for a moment.

“And I don’t spend the night with anyone before a game.”

That made her brows raise in question.

“It’s just… shut up,” Michael muttered, stepping away and rubbing at the back of his neck. It felt hot to the touch. She did horrible things for his blood pressure. “It’s not my routine.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend during a season,” Kat said dryly. “Bull.”

“I never said that. They just didn’t… spend the night on game nights. Okay, I don’t really want to talk about this with you right now.”

“Oh, we can’t have the ‘exes’ talk right now?” Kat smirked, and he wanted to wipe that expression off her face with another blistering kiss. But he refrained. “Good. Then I won’t have to tell you about my time as Bertha’s prison bitch.”

He snorted before he could stop himself.

“Manny,” she said on a sigh, and he growled at the name. God damn, she wouldn’t let that go. “Look, if you want me to leave, just say so. If anyone’s going to get the whole pregame ritual, it’s going to be me.”

She would, he realized. Would get the odd things athletes did for luck, for mental clarity, for the simple sweet routine of it. And probably wouldn’t mock him, no matter how stupid the superstition was. But that wasn’t all…

“Not even gonna touch the other part of that?”

“You want to consider yourself a man with honor.” With a roll of her eyes, she held out her hands. He noticed they weren’t entirely steady. “I can’t really complain since you basically bought my way out of work early. Now I can have a good night’s sleep before drills tomorrow morning.”

“You’re not coming to the game?” Man, that sounded needy. “I mean, just curious so I can arrange a ride or something.”

Nice save, asshat.

She smiled a little, as if she knew instinctively he was losing his cool over her. As if she was enjoying it.

“I plan on coming, yes. So if you could arrange a ride, that would be lovely.” She smiled sweetly now, as if they hadn’t just been going toe to toe in a knockdown, drag-out argument. “I’m meeting my interim tennis coach early in the morning. Plenty of time to get back here and shower before going to the game.”

“Okay.” He scrubbed over his head, hoping to clear the cobwebs the desire he had for her strung all over his brain. “Okay.”

“And when you start repeating yourself, that’s my cue to leave.” She waved a hand and headed for his door. But as she reached for the doorknob, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. He froze in place, unable to move. “Just so you know, Bertha taught me a lot. If you only knew what you were missing.” With a wink, she disappeared out his door. He heard her own unlock and open before his was fully shut behind her.

Son of a bitch, she drove him crazy.



“Bobcat Buys Beauty’s Company.” Trey grinned as he wandered over to Michael’s section of the locker room. “Nice headline, bro.”

“Bite me,” Michael said calmly. He’d already taken a ribbing that morning from his two older brothers—both of whom knew well enough it wouldn’t hurt him in the game to be poked at a bit—and his father, who simply found the entire thing hilarious. Their calls from his hometown in Oregon had already dulled the edge of anger over the whole thing.

Brothers were good for that.

And to think he’d once wanted to be just like them…

“Hey, I get it.” Matt Peterson, defensive lineman and Grade A showboat, walked by and kicked a chair out to sit on. “She got herself into a mess, and you bailed her out. No big. It was a gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Thanks.” Finally, someone who got it without him having to explain himself.

“You didn’t have any, how might they say it…” Matt paused for a moment, shaking his head and sending his dreads bouncing around his shoulders. “Nefarious. That’s a good one. You didn’t have any nefarious plans for the tennis chick.”

“She’s not a chick, but no. No moustache twirling for me, thanks.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I found her and made some advances.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits, and he turned his head very slowly to the side, taking in Matt’s easy pose. “What?”

Matt grinned, showing off his pearly white smile in his dark face. “She’s hot, regardless of whether you’re stuck with her playing Big Brother, Little Sister or whatever. She’s an adult. I figured you wouldn’t care if I asked her out. No nefarious plans, I swear.” As proof, Matt held up his hands, palms out, shit-eating smile on his face.

Trey snickered, then kept walking toward his own seat.

“Not going to help me at all?” Michael called out.

“Dig your own grave,” was his friend’s reply.