Scored(34)

“Who knew football and event planning went so well together?” She pops some sweet-and-spicy shrimp into her mouth, moaning as she chews. “I love their food.”

“I’m jealous of their food.” And turned on.

“Says the man who gets to eat it anytime he wants.” She sends a playful smile my way. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“Out of all the things I want you to feel for me, sorry isn’t one of them.”

She snags a piece of chicken from my plate and tosses it in her mouth, moaning so loudly while she chews that I’m pretty sure my neighbors think I’m having sex right now.

I wish I were the reason for those moans.

“How did you hurt your hand?” she asks.

“Punched Aiden as hard as I could in the jaw. Went down like someone pulled out his chair from under him.”

She blinks at me. “Are y’all fighting?”

“Only in the ring.” I twist off the lid of a water bottle and take a quick drink. “I shouldn’t have hit him as hard as I did.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about hitting him; I’m sure he said or did something that pissed you off.”

Spoken like a woman loyal to her sister. Man, I like her… a lot. “I don’t feel bad at all. It was satisfying as hell when he didn’t get up.”

Her mouth drops open a little. Okay, so she’s a loyal sister, but she has a heart, even for those who don’t deserve it. “Not even a little?”

“Maybe a little, but only because of these.” I hold up my hands, my knuckles covered in medical tape and ointment. “My hands are my moneymakers, and it wasn’t the smartest move to put them in jeopardy. Without them, I can’t play.” I can’t support my foundation. Pay for Mikey’s treatments and physical therapy. Secure a future for him and his wife. Take care of my parents while they finally enjoy their retirement.

“At least you have a modeling career to fall back on.”

“Did that come up in your Snoogling?”

Her gaze skitters away. “It did.”

“Did you like what you saw?” Most of my modeling gigs involved me, one or three women, and not much in the way of clothes.

“I did.”

I turn to her and grab the edge of her seat, swiveling it around so she has to look at me. “What was your favorite picture?”

“The boat one…” She licks her lips. “The ocean view was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

The boat picture is one of my most infamous pictures. I’m bare-assed, standing on the bow of the boat with my arms splayed wide. Not much is left to the imagination, and the photographer managed to capture every part of me but my junk.

Although, I’m ninety-nine percent sure an outtake with my face cropped out managed to make it to Tumblr. Whatever, it’s not like I can prove it’s my dick and balls.

Nor do I want to. I get enough creepy-as-shit emails that my poor assistant has to wade through as it is. God love him.

“You know… I can recreate that for you, right here, if you want…”

Her baby blues darken. “But you don’t have a boat.”

I pat the island countertop. “I can make do with this.”

“You’re just going to strip in front of me?”

“Do you know another way to get naked?”

She giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. “Photoshop?”

Leave it to me to break the mood with the one woman who wants more from me than just my body. I don’t take it personally; she wants a man with depth.

Most people think I’m as deep as a puddle. I was fine with it before because only my family had bigger expectations from me.

“You’re killing my ego, woman.”

“Sorry.” She winces. “You took me by surprise.”

“Won’t happen again.” I bite my lip to keep from grinning.

“No! I don’t mean you shouldn’t do that. It was… you are so bad and make me think of—”

“Me naked?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Well, yeah, almost all the way naked. On a boat.” She chomps down on some broccoli. “Obviously, my brain is muddled by hunger. We can revisit this topic when we’re done.”

“Wow, Paige. I thought you were here to help me plan my event, not get me out of my pants.” I give her a stern look. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

She freezes, then deliberately scoops up some rice with her fingers and throws it, hitting me directly in the face.

“I can’t believe you wasted food that makes you moan.” Then I scoop up some rice and toss it right back, hitting her in the nose. “Oooh, he scores.”

Her eyes cross comically as she looks down at the tip of her nose, then mock glares at me. “I’d take you down, Drake, but I honestly can’t waste anymore of this delicious dinner.” She takes a ladylike bite, tempting me to show her that what I have for her tastes even better.

“Next time, then.”

“Are you serious about not going over event stuff with me?” she asks. There’s a bit of a pleading note in her voice.

“Do you need to go over it with me?”

“You or your assistant. I need the practice.” Her eyes turn sad. “Layton probably won’t come back after she gets married, so that means I’ll have to take her position over until they replace her.”