Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)(38)

“I hope you don’t hold yourself responsible for what happened between you two,” she said.

“Most days I don’t.” He rose. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

She grinned. “That’s subtle. You can just say you don’t want to talk about yourself anymore.”

“I don’t want to talk about myself anymore.”

“Then we won’t.”

She collected her folders and followed him to the front of the building. Once there, he lightly touched her arm.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he told her. “I’m keeping my schedule open from Wednesday on. I can run errands, stuff bags, check on the liquor delivery. Just say the word.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“I hope you do.”

She smiled and walked out. On her way back to her place she thought about how nice Sam was and how Simone had obviously been an idiot. Why choose a single book over a guy like Sam? If she were looking for something permanent—

Not that she was, she reminded herself. But for once, her “been there, done that” argument didn’t spring to mind. She admitted, if only to herself and if only for that one time, that there were other reasons she didn’t want to get involved. That they mostly had to do with how devastated she’d been at the unexpected loss of her parents. That between their deaths and her life experiences so far, she’d learned caring came at a price. One she mostly wasn’t willing to pay.

* * *

SAM TAPPED THE screen on the treadmill. He was already jogging and the increase in speed pushed him to a run. Not the smartest thing for his knees, but he would worry about pain and swelling later. Right now he needed to clear his head.

Sweat poured off him. A baseball game played on the big TV on the wall opposite the cardio equipment. He hadn’t bothered with the sound. Because paying attention to who was playing and the score was impossible. Right now, all he could think about was Dellina and how much he wanted her.

He didn’t know what it was about her that got to him. She was pretty, but he knew women who were incredibly attractive who didn’t interest him in the least. It wasn’t her sense of humor, although he liked it. Or how smart she was. Again, he knew lots of intelligent women. So what was it? Why her?

Maybe it was the combination—that indefinable essence. Like in kicking. You could know everything and have talent, but if you didn’t have that gut instinct that told you exactly how to kick the ball, then you weren’t going to be great. And Dellina was great.

She’d been right to call him on his shit. Kissing her like that, then saying it couldn’t go further because they were working together was wrong. He was better than that and she deserved a whole lot more. It was just that when he was around her, he wanted her. Up against a wall, in a bed, the beach, the mountains—he didn’t think it would much matter. As long as they were naked and she was climaxing five seconds before he lost it.

The combination of the image and his running made it impossible to breathe. He gave in to the inevitable and slowed the treadmill back to a jog. After picking up the towel, he wiped the sweat from his face.

Kenny walked into the cardio room and raised his eyebrows. “We played basketball this morning.”

“So?”

“Why are you running?” His friend grinned. “Afraid you’re getting fat?”

Sam threw the towel at him and turned off the treadmill. His friend ducked and let the towel sail over his head.

“You’re not that old,” Kenny said cheerfully. “You’ve got another couple years until it all goes to hell.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Anytime.” Kenny studied him. “What’s up?”

Sam had met both Jack and Kenny in college. Together they’d become an undefeatable triad. Jack could throw farther and faster than any other quarterback in their division and Kenny had both speed and magic hands. When that wasn’t enough, Sam got them out of trouble with a perfect three-point field goal.

Over a million kids played high school football. Statistically one in about seventeen would make it to college ball. And from that pool, about one in fifty was drafted. The odds of making it, let alone making it big, were infinitesimal. But he and his friends had.

After college they’d all been drafted. Jack had gone in the first round and Kenny in the second, to different teams. Nobody wasted an early round pick on a kicker—not since 2000 and look how that had ended. He’d gone in the fourth round for more money than he’d ever hoped.

Four years later, they’d all ended back up together, playing for the L.A. Stallions. They’d won the Super Bowl and been on top of the world. Then Kenny had taken that hit and had to sit out nearly half a season, and Sam had decided it was time to reevaluate. The two of them were ready to retire. Jack had still been on top, but he’d joined them in leaving and had brought them to Score.

Now Sam looked at his friend and wondered what regrets Kenny carried. He could guess at a lot of them but doubted any of them were about his career.

“What has your panties in a bunch?” Kenny asked. “You only run when you have something on your mind.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kenny grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He held open the door. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”