I stop in my tracks, leaving a good twenty feet between us.
The audacity.
I pull my mask down, not wanting to look any more foolish than my black-on-black uniform and high bun makes me look. We won’t mention the black orthopedic non-slip sneakers I’m forced to wear. They’re practical and comfortable as hell, but not what I want to be wearing when I run into the hottest man on the planet.
“Why are you here? I’m working.” I can’t help the words from flying out of my mouth. I’m being rude, but seriously, what the hell?
“I know, but you said you needed help. And you said it wasn’t for you, and it would help me out. But you also said I was the reason you weren’t a sportscaster, but you wouldn’t tell me why.”
I fold my arms and roll my eyes. I never pictured Callaghan as being a man who couldn’t accept no for an answer, but on the other hand, I’m not sure he ever heard it that much.
“You were being an ass. I don’t need your help that much. I’ll figure out another way.” I’m not sure how, but I won’t let him know that. I haven’t heard from Ophelia in two days, so I don’t know if she was able to get through to the main office of the Boston Buzzards. I keep sending her all the information I can find to refute the article by Chassen Donato, hoping she can make sense of it all.
I start to head back upstairs.
“I thought about it all night. I can’t stop thinking about what you said, and I finally figured it out.”
That stops me in my tracks. How? Other than following each other on social media, there’s nothing to link me with Ophelia or Xavier Henry. It would be a super stretch to put us together.
Then it hits me. He has no idea. There’s no possible way he could. Yet there he is, Callaghan Entay, looking fine as ever in fitted joggers and a hoodie, confident as all get-out.
He has no clue. As a goalkeeper, he has excellent jumping skills. It’ll be interesting to see how he’s used them jumping to conclusions. This could be fun.
“You did, did you?” Slowly I turn back around, raising my eyebrows.
He nods.
“I bet you didn’t.”
“I bet I did.” He takes a few long steps, closing the gap between us.
I smirk and shake my head. “No way. You’ll never figure it out.”
“But I did, and I’m here. That’s got to count for something. Would I have raced up here if I wasn’t confident I knew what was going on?”
I roll my eyes again as he steps closer. Is it getting hot in here?
“Okay, if you’re so smart, tell me then. Tell me why, after all this time, I texted you for help. And tell me how you figured it out.” This should be good. I know I’m wasting my precious break time, but it’s nice to see Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected a little agitated for once.
Callaghan sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you said it wasn’t for your career, even though that’s what makes the most sense. You also said you had to put your career on hold because of me.”
I nod. It’s really hot in here.
Cal looks at my face before dropping his gaze to my hands. Before I know what he’s doing, he grabs mine in his, squeezing them a little more tightly than is comfortable.
Also, my hands are sweating. A lot. Gross.
I don’t want Cal to think it’s because of him. It was mostly from the elevator ride in which I convinced myself that I was being fired or someone had died.
Okay, it’s a little from him.
Or a lot.
My body is betraying me right now, remembering all the ways he touched me.
“Hannah, I’m not mad. I understand. You did what you thought was best. I don’t blame you.”
“Blame me?” Now I’m dying to know what he thinks is going on. I so desperately want to tell him he’s probably not anywhere near the truth, but I need to hold my hand. Not the literal ones he’s still grasping tightly. The figurative ones that give me an advantage, at least for the next few minutes.
