Scored(17)

Layton doesn’t answer right away. She’s too busy talking to Paige, who I’d say looks pretty happy.

“I can take your payment now.” Finley holds up a small square. “You can run it through this, and I can email or text you a receipt for your records.”

“Works for me.” While she crosses the room, with Paige, I put away my cell and get out my wallet. “Can you also email me a copy of the contract?”

“Absolutely.” Layton takes my credit card as soon as I hand it over and runs it through the machine. She nudges Paige. “Once you swipe, you have to hit this button.”

“Okay, then will it ask me for a number or email address?”

“Yes, and you only have to enter it once and the program remembers it for life.”

Paige glances up at me. “I’m sorta in training.”

“Take your time.”

“Number or email?” Paige asks.

I rock back on my heels slightly. “You’ve got my number.”

“Not with me.” A smile plays on her lips. “Do you mind giving it to me again?”

Must remain a gentleman and not say something about giving it to her. I share my number and wait for my phone to buzz with the confirmation. A couple of seconds later, it does.

“Got it.”

“This is for you.” Layton hands over my credit card and the iPad again. “If you’ll type in your email address, I’ll send you a copy of the contract. Also, I’ll need your physical mailing address.”

Quickly, I type everything in and hand the iPad back to her. She passes it off to Paige, whose gaze is still on me.

I wink at her.

She blushes, but doesn’t look away. Those baby blues are all over me. Maybe she’s undressing me in her head. I puff my chest out and broaden my stance a little. Her eyes widen. Yeah, I’m giving her great things to imagine.

“Email me the copy, and I’ll reply back with what you need,” I say.

“Great.” Layton beams at me while Paige finally forces her attention to the screen. “That’s all you need to do, honey.”

“Oh, okay.” A guilty look covers her face. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to hit save or something.”

Was she trying to memorize my email… or my number? On one hand, I’m flattered. On the other, it means she threw mine away.

Or gave it to her coworker, Nolan.

I hope to God she threw it away.

“Is there any way I can get a contact number to schedule meetings with the two of you?” I ask, all innocent.

Paige looks to Layton, who in turn nods at me. “Why don’t you do it since his event date is after the wedding and I’ll be on my honeymoon?”

“Oh, yeah. Right,” Paige replies and looks at me, hesitation in her big eyes. “If you’ll text me after I give it to you, then you can add me as a new contact.”

I whip my phone out so fast I nearly send it flying. So much for having the best hands in the NFL. “Hit me.”

I tap in her number and a short message that will leave no doubt as to who it is, then hit send. “Done. Anything else, ladies?”

“No.” Layton takes a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to my office and send you the contract. Thanks for all your help, Paige.”

“So… are we still on for drinks after you get off work?” I ask once we’re alone again.

“Yup. I did injure you, you know.”

Gingerly, I rub the back of my head, where it’s barely throbbing. “What time do you get off?”

“Six.”

“That’ll give me time to go by Doc’s.”

“Team doctor?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s a perk to have one available to you twenty-four-seven.” I start to walk back to the elevators. Although I want to stay and keep talking, I also want to make our date. “Text me your address so I can pick you up.”

“How about I meet you instead.” Her suggestion is more of a statement. “I mean, what if it’s serious and you shouldn’t be driving?”

She has a good point, but I’m not going to let a small thing like a concussion get in the way of our date. “I can pick you up in an Uber.”

“I’d feel more comfortable driving myself for our first… um, date,” she says.

“Then I’ll meet you there. How does seven sound?”

“Sounds like this is going to turn into dinner.” She laughs.

“I like dinner.”

Her mouth drops open in mock surprise. “Me, too. I wonder what else we have in common?”

“Do you enjoy eating lunch? Breakfast?”

“Oh yeah, we are twins.” She presses the DOWN button, and we wait for the elevator to return. “There’s a teensy, tiny confession I have to make.”

My gut twists. “What’s that?” I ask lightly.

“I don’t actually enjoy watching football.”





CHAPTER 7




Paige


A wise woman keeps her mouth shut and waits until the perfect time to reveal all.

“You told him that you don’t enjoy watching football?” Layton moans. She smacks the heel of her hand against her head. “Please say you followed that up with an only kidding?”