Play Maker(29)

I needed to push that doubt out of my mind. I needed to go.

But a part of me was a little disappointed that he wasn’t really trying to stop me. Not like last time. Maybe it had been all about his ego this whole time – he couldn’t comprehend that someone didn’t want to sleep with him again and now that I had, his ego had returned to its usual size.

“Well.” He was still standing there naked, an amused grin on his face. “Can I call you a cab?”

“No thanks,” I said, my voice sounding overly cheerful, even to me and I immediately kicked myself. I did need a cab – and hated to dip into my budget to pay for it. But for some reason, I didn’t want him paying for it either. I didn’t want him paying for anything. I didn’t need another reminder of how different we were.

“I guess I’ll see you around then.” He quirked an eyebrow at me. “After all, there is only one bar in this hotel.”

Another reminder that this was all temporary. That his presence here was temporary. If we kept it casual, there’d be no problems when he left. Which he was going to do.

I squared my shoulders and plastered a smile on my face. “I look forward to it.”

Yeah, my body did, but my mind was wondering if I could call in sick for a few days. James had clearly scratched whatever mutual itch we had had, but I was tingling like I was covered in ants. Sexual ants.

I headed towards the door, remembering that I had left my bag there. Grabbing it off the ground, I turned around to find that James hadn’t moved. I gave myself a moment to appreciate the perfection of his naked body – the muscular legs, the toned, tattooed chest, the rock hard abs…and other things below that general area that I was getting a little too attached to.

“Ok. Bye,” I said and got out of there as soon as possible. Ok. Bye? I got in the elevator, smacking my forehead with my palm. What was I? Twelve? Ugh.

I got down to the lobby and had the front desk call me a cab. A cheap one.

It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I remembered the gift James had given me at the bar. The one I had stowed in my bag and immediately forgotten about once I arrived in his room and launched myself into his arms. I pulled it out of my purse, the brown paper bag a bit crinkled and dented, but I held it like it was the most perfectly wrapped gift of all time. A part of me didn’t want to open it. I knew if I did, I might regret going back there tonight. I might start feeling things for someone who was going to be going back to the U.K. soon. Someone who was supposed to be good in bed, but not so good that I had started to question the abilities of every other guy I had slept with. Someone who I needed to forget about as soon as possible.

But despite my better judgment, I found myself opening the bag anyways. There was a card and a bottle of liquor. That wasn’t a surprise, but then I opened the card. For the woman who knows what she likes. I held up the glass. It was a bottle of the most expensive cognac money could buy.





17





James





I took a deep breath of salt air as I jogged along the beach. It was my first morning off since we had arrived in Los Angeles and though I couldn’t take the day off from my intensive exercise routine, I figured I deserved the change of scenery and headed to Venice to see more of what Southern California could offer me.

And it seemed to be willing to offer me a lot. I had barely stepped out of my rental car before a bevy of babes in bikinis passed by, some of them turning back to ogle me openly. I couldn’t help winking at one of them, though I found that my heart wasn’t really in it. She was cute, but my attention was still focused on the blonde that had been in my bed and in my arms last night.

My cock was still pretty focused on that too, and I had to increase my speed, pounding my feet against the sand to keep my erection under control. With the sun beating down on my face, I worked up a great sweat, feeling more alive than I had in a while. I knew I owed it to Nicole. Last night had been incredible. She had been incredible. Any lethargy I had felt about the decisions I was making about my future, any reluctance, seemed to have been banished completely.

I didn’t really understand why. Nicole still had left, even before I could ask her to stay, but somehow, this time, I wasn’t worried. She would be back, I told myself, confidence surging through me, my feet picking up speed. Whatever was going on between us, it wasn’t something that was going to go away after one night, or even two. If everything worked out according to plan, I would be staying in sunny California for a while. And I was definitely interested in taking a more focused look at the chemistry between Nicole and I. Didn’t Americans have something called ‘friends with benefits’? That was something that sounded appealing.

I felt like I could do anything. The future was suddenly full of potential and I was ready to take it on. It helped that Ethan had called that morning with a list of possible charities, all of which sounded eager for someone to get involved in a hands-on way.

And this – I kept running – watching people on the beach, the surfers in the water, couples strolling by. I loved it. Unlike London, where everyone recognized me and paparazzi waited outside my flat, no one here seemed to realize who I was. Sure, there had been a few photographers outside some of the fancy restaurants I had gone to with the rest of the team and Rick kept managing to get himself (or rather, me) in the tabloids, but it was nothing like back home. Thank god Americans didn’t follow our football the same way they followed their own.