Obviously, I demolished that idea before I could send any of the messages I’d typed out.
I should just take the hint by now and let it go. It’s the obvious option, considering how obvious he’s been about never giving in to the chemistry between us. That’s not me, though. I don’t give up on anything, even at the risk of having a man reject me yet again.
Shaking my head, I ignore the curious gaze of the team’s shortstop, Jett Ellington, and bypass him to my brother’s locker. His helmet is already tucked away inside, along with his chest protector and glove. I huff, turning to the snoopy single dad a few feet away.
“Where’s my brother?”
Jett pulls his hoodie down over his head and swipes his dirty-blond hair back and out of his face. “He left right after post-game interviews were over. Do you need a ride?”
“Are you being serious?” I snip in disbelief.
“I can give you a ride. It’s no problem.”
“I don’t need a ride. What I need is to smack Wes upside the head.”
His wince is sympathetic. “Sorry, Elle.”
“It’s fine. I’ll have to rake him over the coals tomorrow instead.”
I take another look at his equipment and curl my fingers into a fist. Beside me, Jett’s lingering when he’s clearly ready to leave, and that’s not helping my annoyance. As much as I appreciate the thought, I don’t need him to do a thing for me.
“Go home to your daughter, Jett,” I say as nicely as possible.
Still, he hesitates, ever the father figure of the group. “I don’t have her tonight. It’s really no big deal for me to give you a ride?—”
“Jett, go the fuck home.” I give his arm a friendly squeeze. “I drove myself here, and I’ll take myself home regardless of whether I’ve spoken to my brother or not.”
His mouth twists as he bends down to grab the ball cap from the chair in front of his locker. “Roman might know where Wes went. I doubt he just abandoned you here if you two were supposed to talk.”
I pause, tapping my thigh. Now, that’s an idea.
“He’s still here?”
“Rome? Oh, yeah. He’ll be here for hours rewatching the game. You know where his office is, right?”
While I’ve never been inside it, I’ve passed the door with his name stuck to the glass more times than I can count. I can’t say I’ve ever been as curious as I am right now to change that.
“Thanks, Jett. I’ll do that,” I say, flashing a grin.
“You’re welcome. Have a good night, Elle.”
I wiggle my fingers at him before he finally stalks out of the clubhouse. Puffing out a breath, I spin on my heels to face the rest of the players, only to find myself the last person here. It’s suddenly silent enough to make unease climb up my spine as I push away from Wes’ spot and speed up on my hunt for Roman’s office.
His door is shut like always. I lean closer to the window to try and see through the blinds on the opposite side. A soft light glowing from inside the office is all I can make out.
My neck is warm and honestly a bit damp as I swipe my palms down my jersey. All I need to do is not flirt with him. As long as I keep it in my pants, he’ll at least talk to me. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to make him see me as more than just a horny girl who’s fifteen years younger than him.
He can say it’s my brother keeping him from letting us enjoy our connection, but I know it’s more than that. And whatever it is, I want to eliminate it before it grows to be an even larger pain in my cooch.
With a thick swallow, I adjust the hem of my jersey and shake out my hair a bit. In the window, I use my reflection to adjust the part in my bangs and nod to myself when I’ve decided I look good.
I knock my knuckles against the door and wait.
“Come in.”
His deep, husky voice hits me hard, as if he’d growled into my ear. It’s all I can do not to shove the door open and crawl right onto his desk when I slowly grip the doorknob and give it a twist.
The moment I give it a small push and take a step into the dark office, I’m staring directly into his eyes. His slightly widened, tired eyes. The deep blue bags beneath them cause a spike of concern to cut through me.
