Page 41 of Playing for Love

I didn’t need to guess that he’d want to meet and date other women, as soon as his injury would allow. I gave him a smile and patted his cheek. With his lightning quick reflexes, he grabbed my hand and took it from his face.

“No touching in the friend zone, Mia.”

I felt shame and apology welling up, but maintained my poise.

“I’m sorry. I should know better. You’re right.” I backed away from him. “Let me cook you breakfast.” I got busy in the kitchen while he walked around gingerly at first and then picked up speed as instructed. Part of his therapy was moving normally to prevent stiffness, in spite of any pain.

I really liked Tate. He was easy to be around. But then so was every man compared to Gabe. He’d been the only man I’d ever met who turned me into a bundle of overexcited nerves. That’s probably why I’d never gotten over the crush. My one and only crush.

* * *

Gabe

By the timeFriday night came around, I’d worked myself into exhaustion, practicing every night late and collapsing into bed. I focused on football and only football every single day, not looking ahead, except at the game on Sunday.

Until now. I left practice early—technically at the same time everyone else did—so I could get home and cook. Everyone was set to arrive for 7:30. That gave me time to stop at the market and do the prep work. I was excited to put the overly expensive gourmet kitchen to good use tonight. It has been way too long. I was making chicken piccata over homemade linguini, one of my specialties.

Before starting any cooking, I put the food away and headed for the shower. Tonight was a break from football, the Friday night window I’d always allowed myself to enjoy without guilt or concern and I found I was looking forward to it. Stripping down, I tossed my clothes into a pile on the floor and turned on all three sprayers in the shower and made the water hot. Standing under the spray, I emptied my mind and relaxed, concentrating on the water hitting my skin, washing more than the sweat and dirt of the day away, clearing my head, easing whatever tension I had.

To say I was surprised when I heard Hunter call out from my kitchen would be an understatement. Shit. I’d taken too much time. I shut down the shower, grabbed a towel, and dried off as I walked.

“What the hell are you doing? I don’t smell any food cooking.” Hunter Quintanna walked into my room as I pulled on some pants, with a towel around my neck, bare-chested and my hair still dripping.

“I was taking a shower. Do you mind? Do you have no shame about invading my privacy?” I was half joking—no, make that completely joking.

He held up a key ring. “I still have my key to this place. Have you no sense about security?”

Slipping the towel from around my neck, I whipped it at him, catching his left shoulder as he darted out of the way.

“Hey, this ain’t the locker room, Wyatt. Behave yourself. I came in here because I wanted to warn you that we brought a young lady along for you to meet.”

That news shut me up fast. I motioned for him to continue. He always needed provocation to talk.

“She’s one of Cat’s sorority sisters, an attorney, lives in Boston.” I knew he was teasing. He wanted to make me ask what she looked like, but I wasn’t going to bother since she was in the next room and I could go see for myself. I brushed past him into the hall and went into the living room where I would find Cat and her friend.

“Wait a minute,” he called. “You forgot your shirt.” I didn’t wait.

When I walked into the living room, I found more than Cat and her friend. Tate and Mia were there too. And they were all dressed to impress, especially Mia. But I turned my eyes quickly from hers and aimed them at the new woman. She was a looker, even if she wasn’t my type. Not that I had a type, per se, except as defined by whoever I saw that turned my head.

She was pretty, but I wasn’t stunned. Though in fairness, she was in the same room as Mia so it was impossible for me to be impressed. Because Mia stole my breath, the same way she always did. It was more than her face, or her body or her grace and the way she moved, it was all those things and more. Her smile, and especially her laugh, and the way she made people around her feel, the lightness, the openness, the trustworthiness, and the all-around good vibe she gave out, not only that she would do no wrong, but that you could do no wrong when you were with her because she would never judge you.

“Nice outfit,” Cat said. “Gabriel Wyatt, meet Natalie, my sorority sister and good friend.”

“I like your outfit,” the woman said, smiling like a lioness, giving me a chill that could either be fear or excitement. Probably both. Too bad I was looking for neither. Not from her at any rate.

“I was still dressing. Make yourselves at home. Have some wine. Hunter can get it for you while I get a shirt.”

“Don’t bother on my account,” the tigress said. I could have sworn I heard a purr. I gave her a grin while Cat rolled her eyes, almost making me laugh, and I went back to my room to grab the first shirt I came across. It was a blue Hawaiian print, loose and comfortable and perfect for cooking in case I got food on it.

“Let’s get started. Come on into the kitchen and help me now that I’ve fallen behind schedule.”

“What do you need us to do?” Mia asked. I wanted to tell her she could pound the meat, but I didn’t. Too much room for misinterpretation as flirtation.

“You can help get the homemade pasta started.”

“Homemade pasta? Really? That’s rad,” Natalie said.

Fontanna said, “Figures. You don’t go halfway on anything do you?”