My libido curls up in the corner.
I’ve been cock-blocked by my own damn team.
“So,” Lacey continues, her brown-eyed gaze straying to our joined hands. Quickly, I let go. “The receiver’s coach and I met earlier today about you, Harlan.”
I jerk my gaze to Lacey. “You did?”
Lacey, a former cheerleader, nods enthusiastically. Lacey does everything enthusiastically. “We did, and we thought, given the hamstring strain you sustained the other week, we should make sure your flexibility and balance are at peak levels.”
For a guy who puts in the extra work, the suggestion sure bristles me. “You’re saying they’re not?”
Her smile is wide. It usually is. “I’m saying your performance is indeed peak, and we want to keep it there. We think yoga can do that. What do you think?”
I flash back to my jog this morning. To the wince I felt. Sure, I spend plenty of time lifting weights, running plays. But stretching? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to improve ye olde flexibility.
I let go of the momentary annoyance. “Let’s do it.”
She wipes a hand across her forehead in exaggerated relief. “Whew. I’m glad you agree. Because we’d like you to set up some one-on-one sessions directly with Katie. We need our star receiver corps to be in fantastic shape. Maybe tomorrow morning you could meet up at Katie’s studio? Obviously, the team will cover all the expenses. So, if you two can just exchange numbers and handle the timing?”
Lacey’s eyes widen as she waits for an answer.
Katie chimes in first. “Absolutely. I welcome the chance,” she says.
I clear my throat, hiding the chuckle working its way out. The situation isn’t funny, but the idea that we need to trade numbers is.
Though, maybe funny isn’t the word. More like devastating to my dick and heart, since both are into Katie.
Lacey spins on her heel, leaving me alone with the woman I want but can’t have.
I glance around. Coast is clear. My chest weighs a ton. I hate doing this…
“So, about tonight,” I say heavily.
Her shoulders hunch. “I know. I figured as much.”
She’s already on the same page, but I need to be clear. It’s important. “I shouldn’t date someone who works for the team.” It’d look bad, especially in this critical season. I’d look like the playboy I once was. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to put the team in an awkward position. The potential for a social media blowup is too high.
“And I can’t date a client,” she adds, sadness in her tone. Hereyes sweep the exercise room, then return to me. “It could hurt our reputation as we’re growing the business. I worry it would look like I’m sleeping my way to deals, especially with such a high-profile one. This is a big opportunity for Sassy Yoga.”
She sounds wracked by guilt, and I’ll have none of that.
“Katie, I want this deal to go well for your company, so don’t apologize. I understand completely. Truly, I do.” Especially since it’s harder for women in these situations. Society often gives top athletes a slap on the hand when they mess around with women they work with. But the fairer sex? They usually get the jagged edge of the judgment knife. I hate the thought of that happening to Katie.
“Thank you for saying that. And please know I would ask for someone else to fill in, but my business manager made it explicitly clear that Blaine Enterprises hiredme.” She still sounds like she’s in the worst funk.
Same here.
“You’re the face and brand,” I say with a sad smile. “Everyone wants you.”
She dips her head, laughing wistfully. “But I would otherwise have switched. Because I really wanted to see you tonight,” she says, so sweet, so vulnerable.
I step closer, daring to get near to her, to inhale her scent. “I really wanted to see you too.”
Instead, we make plans for the morning.
Professional plans.
Even so, when I hit the sack that night, all I want is for the sun to rise.
