Not My Romeo (The Game Changers #1)(79)

Jack pauses, his face flushing. “I appreciate the invitation, but . . .” He looks at me, and I shrug.

All your fault, buddy.

“I, um, already have plans.”

I frown. Really? It’s the off-season.

But I know what it is.

He wants a little, but not a lot.

I get it, and I’m fine.

Totally fine.

“Next time, then.” She shoos us away. “Go on; stop gawking at each other. I’ll finish the staircase. Y’all can work on the screened-in porch when you get back.”

It’s like I’m a teenager all over again, and she’s ordering me around. Jeez, this is my house. Fine.

I take off for the beauty shop across the street, and Jack follows me, keeping pace.

Ugh! Why didn’t I at least put on lipstick this morning?

“Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly after a few steps of silence.

I dart a look at him, then back at the road in front of us. “For coming?”

He nods.

“No. I just figured I’d see you Monday at rehearsal.”

He frowns at that. “I didn’t see Preston.”

I scoff. “Is that why you came? To stake your claim?”

“Partly. Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“I’m right off Main. Everyone knows my house.”

“It’s a beautiful place.”

“Thank you. There’s still a lot I want to do: modernize the kitchen, redo the hardwood, add a garage—that’s next for sure.”

“Nice.”

Our conversation is so . . . mundane! What is wrong with me?

Plus, I’m irked he turned down Mama for lunch.

Let that go, Elena.

I head to the door of the shop, unlocking it and heading inside. After clicking the lights on, I walk over to the white fridge and grab one of the cardboard boxes on the top to put the drinks in.

Jack is behind me. “I wish you’d look at me, Elena. Should I not have come? I just wanted to see you, and you sounded like you needed help.”

I shut my eyes. He’s not only great at orgasms, but he’s kind . . .

But . . . part of me is terrified.

He’s going to crawl inside my heart.

He’s going to break it into a million pieces.

“Yes. I’m glad you came.” I whip around, and he’s eased in closer, backing me up against the fridge.

He wipes at my cheek. “Smudge on your face.”

“Dusting.”

His elbows land on either side of my head against the fridge, eyes holding mine. “I can’t believe you left me—then hung up on me. No one treats me this bad.”

I cock my hip, feigning confidence I don’t have. “Figured I owed you one for the morning you left me.”

His head dips as his nose runs up my throat. “Also, you left a hell of a hickey on my neck; hence this awful turtleneck. Didn’t want your mama to see it.”

My breath hitches. “Jack . . .”

He kisses my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe. “Yeah, say it like that again, all breathy, and I’ll forgive you for leaving me . . .” His chest presses against me. “I like your mama. She’s feisty. No wonder you turned out so wild. Little hellion.”

“I am not wild! I’m a librarian.”

“You keep saying that, but you’ve got a streak in you, and I like it.” His hand skates down to hold my hip. “This is what I wanted when I woke up. You. In my arms. Me inside you. I might have even pulled out the handcuffs. You missed out.”

“I have my own handcuffs. Pink and fuzzy . . .”

“Wild woman.”

“You best get rid of that tent in your jeans before we walk back,” I whisper.

He kisses my throat. “We’re going to get your place nice and pretty, Elena. And when everyone is gone, I’m going to do bad things to you in your bed. Is it one of those big old-fashioned ones, high off the floor?”

“No, it’s a new king-size one,” I say, sighing as he tugs at my hair, pulling it down.

He stares down at me. “I love your hair, the color, how long it is.”

“I’ll just have to put it back up. And we can’t do this in the beauty shop.”

“I just want to kiss you.”

“Uh-huh. Never knew a man who loved to kiss so much.” I slide my hands up his shoulders, tangling in his hair. “Now stop talking. Mama’s probably timing us. If we’re here too long, she’ll barge in.”

He laughs and takes my mouth, groaning as our lips cling.

And I’m lost all over again.

How will I ever let him go when it’s over?





Chapter 27

JACK

I tuck a Tigers hat on my head and exit the SUV and open the door of Leo’s Pizzeria, the place in Daisy Elena swore was the best place in town for takeout. I ease in the door and check out the interior. Busy as hell for nine o’clock at night on Saturday in a small town, but she’s starving after all the work we did today. I grin for no apparent reason other than I have to feed her, and if she wants pizza . . .

A few patrons I recognize from the school give me wide-eyed looks, then send me a wave. Friendly but not jumping up to mob me. I like that and wave back. Don’t feel like small talk. Just want to get back to her place.