Fumbled (Playbook #2)(33)
“No, I mean yeah.” I trip over my words like a bumbling fool. “That sounds good.”
“And since it will be a few days before I can see you guys, I was thinking I could watch Ace for you while you work tomorrow night.”
My back goes straight as I aim my gaze at his feet. “Oh . . . work . . . about that . . .” I try—and fail—to keep my wits together. “I sorta don’t work there anymore.”
“You got fired!” he shouts.
My head snaps up and my eyes widen at his outburst. “Ace!” I whisper-shout at him. “Don’t yell.”
“Sorry,” he whispers, even though he doesn’t actually look sorry. “But what the hell happened?”
“Well, actually . . .” I stutter around my words, trying to figure out the best way to deliver the news. “You happened.”
His eyes go wide and color fills his cheeks from beneath his beard. “What?” he grinds out, and I can tell it’s taking everything within him not to shout. “Please explain this to me.”
“Somebody posted pictures of us from the parking lot the other night on some gossipy website. They were grainy and not great, but it’s clearly us and we’re clearly behind the Emerald Cabaret. And unfortunately for me, your friend Rochelle not only knows me but hates me,” I say. TK’s entire body is stiff in front of me and I swear I can feel the anger vibrating off him. “She told Phil I’m the reason you and your teammates stopped coming in, so he fired me for losing clients.”
I know my tone is off, a single mom shouldn’t sound so laid-back about losing her only source of income, but I can’t seem to make myself care. I know I can’t afford to be unemployed for long, but it’s not an emergency yet. Plus, I really couldn’t work at a nightclub forever.
A career it was not.
“That bitch,” TK whispers. “She fuckin’ played me.”
Since it sounds like a conversation he’s having with himself, I don’t say anything.
“Fuck, Poppy, I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t even know who it was when she called the other morning. I never save numbers in my phone. She asked if we could hook up sometime and she’d treat me and some of my teammates to VIP for a night. I just told her I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name, I swear.”
Did he say he was seeing someone?
“You’re seeing someone?” I ask, not caring at all about anything else he said.
“Um, yeah?” His eyebrows scrunch together. “I mean, I wanted to see where this would go with you before I knew about Ace and I still want to . . . if you do, of course.”
“I mean . . .” I plaster my arms to my sides to avoid pinching myself. “I’m open to it,” I say, pleased with my answer. Way to play it cool, Poppy.
“Good,” he says, a smile pulling up at the corners of his mouth. “And since you’re looking for a job, my friend Brynn owns a restaurant called HERS and I think she’s looking for help. If you’re interested, I can call her and put a good word in.”
“That’s sweet, TK, but I can find a job by myself.” Even though HERS is right down the street and looks like the coolest place ever.
“Who said you couldn’t?” There’s an undercurrent of annoyance lacing his words. “I know you can do everything on your own, but you don’t have to now.”
I like doing things on my own. There’s a comfort in knowing that the only person who can let me down is me. But if I’m going to try to let TK in, really in, I guess this is the best place to start. Plus, I’d really like to work at HERS.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath, like somehow I’m agreeing to more than a job referral. “It’d be great if you could call her for me.”
“Good, then we’re set, I’ll call Brynn tomorrow and get the passes set up.” He reaches out, twisting a strand of my hair around his finger. His eyes drop to my mouth. I hope it’s because he can hear the silent pleading coming from it and he’ll touch his lips to mine. Instead, the corners of his mouth pull up, deepening his smile lines. “Night, Poppy.”
“Night, TK,” I whisper, the words all air and begging.
He drops his head and touches his lips to mine before turning his back on me and retreating to my living room, where he turned the couch into his bed for the night.
I watch him go. His full, firm ass, the tightness of his quads, the graze of his sun-kissed hair against his muscular shoulders taunting me as he moves. I watch with intense focus things I never once noticed in another man. Every inch of TK calls to me . . . turns my insides into liquid.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I give up trying to hold myself upright and slide down the wall until my ass is safely on the kitchen floor, which this close up, I realize, needs to be mopped.
But I can be Cinderella another day.
One when TK hasn’t reappeared in my life, bringing back ideas of true love’s kiss and happily-ever-afters.
Fifteen
I check my phone for what feels like the billionth time, hoping to see a text from TK.
Before he left on Monday, he promised to give Brynn a call and then text me with her number. I mean, I know training camp starts today and he was probably busy packing or something last night, but he was so insistent that he’d reach out to her that I thought he’d get back to me right away.