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With a confidence she really didn’t feel, Aubrey entered the crowded restaurant, making her way to the table she’d claimed earlier. She reached underneath it to grab the black Coach bag she’d recently purchased at a nearby outlet, checking to make sure everything was inside. Satisfied, she slung the strap over her shoulder, glancing around in the hopes no one noticed her.
Looked like the coast was clear.
Doing her best to appear inconspicuous, she turned, running smack into a solid wall of man flesh—her new personal bodyguard, Nick Hamilton. Letting out a muffled grunt of startled pain, she took a step backward, saved from stumbling when Nick reached out and grasped her upper arms.
“Where you off to so soon?” His voice was friendly, his gaze direct and scarily assessing.
She knew he knew she was up to no good. Damn it. “Um, home. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” Not too far off from the truth, so at least it wasn’t a bald-faced lie.
One dark and skeptical brow—how could an eyebrow be skeptical?—rose at her reply. “You going home alone?” He stressed the last word.
Oh, good Lord. Lately he’d been acting all big-brother protective and stuff. And she didn’t need a keeper. If she wanted to sneak off and have filthy, amazing sex with Flynn Foley, then by god, she was going to do it. She didn’t have to answer to an overprotective, glowering football player, even if said player, with one glance, could scare the hell out of just about anyone.
Deciding to go with defiant and rude as her defense, she faced Nick head-on. “Are you wanting all the dirty details
of my personal life, Nick? Because we can sit down and gossip over coffee tomorrow morning, if you want.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting for him to move so she could make her escape.
He didn’t so much as flex a muscle. Jerk.
“I don’t wanna know all those details. Damn, Aubrey, you’re like a little sister to me.” He grimaced and shook his head. Still didn’t move, either, the big lug. “Listen, I just… I feel sorta protective of you, Aub. I just wanna make sure you’re not gonna go off, have some heated affair with one of these jackass pig players, and then I watch him break your heart. That means I’d have to break someone’s face, and I’d be the one who ended up in trouble.” He looked miserable. Angry. Concerned.
Okay. That was the sweetest thing ever. Nick Hamilton was a pain in her ass, yet so thoughtful, he could almost bring tears to her eyes with his kindness.
Right now, though, she could really do without the protective older-brother bit.
“I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’m a big girl, Nick. I got this.” She flashed him a bright smile, tilting her head to the right in the hopes he’d get the hint and move, but damn it, the guy still wouldn’t get out of her way.
“Flynn Foley is no exception. He will break your heart.” The words tumbled out of him, almost as if he didn’t mean them to, and he clamped his lips shut, looking irritated. “He’s a straight arrow who cares about nothing and no one else but football. That’s it. That’s all he’s about.”
Anger suffused her, making her blood heat. “You really believe that’s all there is to Flynn?”
“Darlin’, I know that’s all there is to Foley. The guy is a goddamn machine. An obsessed-with-making-it-and-doing-everything-it-takes-to-get-there machine. It makes him crazy that he doesn’t get much field play.”
“Don’t tell me it wouldn’t bother you if you were in his shoes,” she retorted.
“Of course, it would bother me. But I know how to have balance in my life. That guy doesn’t. He just works that much harder, trying to make it all happen. He practices extra long and extra hard. He’s freaking obsessed. He definitely doesn’t have much of a personal life.” Nick’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “I’d hate to see him ignore a good girl like you for football. You deserve more, Aubrey.”
She appreciated Nick’s voicing his concerns. Concerns she should have, too. But she didn’t know what to say, how to answer him. Or if he was even looking for an answer.
Nick scratched the back of his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I mean, they all say he’s a virgin, for Christ’s sake. A pro-football-playing virgin—I mean, what the fuck?”
“Nick. God. Stop with the virgin-rumor talk.” She rolled her eyes, but deep down, the idea scared her. And excited her. Because, come on…if he was a virgin, she could teach him all about sex. As in, show him what she wanted out of a guy in the bedroom.
The possibilities of that were enough to fill her with the determination to get the hell out of there, and quickly.
“Nick, it’s been real, but I need to go. See you later?”
He stepped out of her way, his expression full of concern as he wagged his index finger at her. “Watch yourself, young lady. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Laughing, she shook her head as she stood on tiptoe and brushed the quickest kiss on her savior’s cheek before she walked away. “That means I can do a whole hell of a lot, right? Nothing stops you from going after what you want.”
And nothing was going to stop her, either. Not even Nick’s sweet concern.
…
Flynn remained outside, pacing the length of the terrace while waiting for Aubrey to return. His mind was awhirl with images of her upturned face, her soft pink lips, the dazed look in her eyes when he’d said he wanted to be with her tonight.
He’d meant it. Damn it, he was tired of repressing his instincts and funneling all of his energy into football. Since when had he been so completely selfish and just done something for his own…pleasure?
