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Maybe that was why he was here, having the type of personal conversation that he usually avoided, and trying to think of anything to say to make her laugh because she had one hell of a laugh and he needed to hear it as often as possible.
When the top popped, she jumped slightly, holding a hand to her chest and then laughing nervously. “That always gets me,” she said, seemingly half in apology and half in amusement at herself.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted, and she was breathtaking.
“Me, too,” he said, not really thinking about the champagne.
“No, it didn’t. You didn’t even jump.”
No, he hadn’t. But she was making him just as jumpy as her, he was just better at hiding it. It was kind of his job to hide his nerves from his fans and his teammates, who looked to him as a leader.
Without saying anything, he poured them both a glass of bubbling champagne, then handed her the fuller one. Her fingers brushed his, and it took all his control not to let his touch linger even longer. He hadn’t come here to seduce and forget her. He’d come to get to know her. To thank her.
Then he’d leave…without touching her.
Lifting his glass, he said, “To our successes.”
“To our successes.” She clinked her glass against his then lifted it to her pink, lush mouth. He could see the tip of her tongue as she drank. He’d never been so jealous of an inanimate object as he was of her glass right now. After lowering the drink, she licked her lips and asked, “Were you closer to one of your siblings than the others?”
He took a sip, thinking that over. “As kids, Anna or Chris were closest to me, I guess. But now, I’d say I’m closer to the others, and they’re all about equal. I even helped Eric get his girl back a few months ago.”
“How?” she asked, walking into the living room.
He followed her, grabbing the champagne for easy refilling purposes. “Long story short, they were sleeping together and swore not to let it get serious because she was moving. Well, it got serious, and instead of telling her he loved her, he let her leave for Texas because it was ‘the right thing to do.’”
“Wow.” She sat and leaned on her knees, pushing her breasts up. Any other girl, he’d think she did it to entice him, but with her, he doubted it. She seemed completely unaware of her charms, and how easy it would be for her to seduce him if she wanted. “What did you tell him to do?”
After setting the bottle of champagne down on a newspaper, he sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance between them to remind himself that he wasn’t there to get her naked…even though he wanted to. “I told him to stop letting the love of his life leave, and to go win her back. So, he got out of his contract and moved to Texas for her.”
She blinked, her mouth parted. “He did?”
“Yep, left his dream job and everything.”
“He must really love her,” she said slowly.
“I guess so,” he said.
She eyed him. “You’re not big on love?”
How had she figured that out? Was it in his tone? “Love is good.”
“But you don’t want it.”
He shrugged. “I have it. My parents. My siblings. My team. My fans.” He took a sip, then added, “To seek out more is just greedy, and to be honest, I don’t want more.”
She nodded, pursing her lips. “Why not?”
If anyone else asked, he’d give a generic answer, like: too many beautiful people out there to commit to one for the rest of my life. But with her, he wanted to be honest. “I love football. Love the game. The travel. The challenge. The wins. Even the losses. I love everything about it.”
She played with a piece of her hair. “And…?”
“And if I fell in love with someone else, something I don’t even think I’m capable of, then that would take away from the love I have for the game. It would pull me out of it. I’d start to resent the travel, the time away from home, and I’d lose my love for football.” He set his glass down, trying to find the right words to express what he was trying to say. “I’ve seen it happen, time and time again. A player is on a path to MVP, and everyone is buzzing about him, but then he meets a girl, gets married, has kids…and all he wants is to rush home to his family every night. He stops training hard. Stops doubling up on gym time. And slowly but surely, he fades away.”
She set her glass down, too, turning so her leg was folded under her. It made her dress ride up her thigh, something he tried really hard not to notice. He failed. Horribly. “That’s not fair, though. Plenty of good players are married and still on the top of their game.”
“Sure they are.” He shrugged. “But lots aren’t, too, and to be honest, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
