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I hesitate for a second. Is there anything wrong with this setup? Any reason I should say no? I’d love to design his logo. The thought of tapping into my creative side again is exciting. And it would give me something real to add to my portfolio—something other than mockups and old school projects.
“I’d love to,” I say.
He smiles—that ridiculous brain-melting smile of his—and I fight back the temptation to hug him.
“Great,” he says. “We can talk more about it later. I need to go shower. Selene’s running late anyway, and she’ll bitch if I smell.”
I think he smells heavenly, even from several feet away, but I shove that thought away as fast as I think it.
His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket. A smile crosses his lips, and my back clenches. I’ll bet anything it’s Aubrey.
He pockets the phone and smiles again. “Shower. I’ll be right back.”
I close my eyes and shake my head while he walks away.
The door opens behind me and I inadvertently gasp when a man as tall as Braxton walks in the door. I recognize him instantly—Derek Marshall.
I’ve seen him on TV, so seeing him in person is a trip. He definitely looks like a football player. He’s wearing shorts and an Under Armour compression tank that shows off every line of muscle he has. And he has plenty—all of them, in fact.
He smiles at me, and I feel my heart flutter a little.
“Hi,” he says. “Sorry, I forgot my wallet in the locker room.”
“Oh, sure,” I say. “I think Braxton is in there, but I’m sure he’ll be out soon.”
“Right.” His eyes don’t leave my face and he holds out a hand. “Derek.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Of course you are.”
He takes my hand in his much larger one. “And you are?”
“Oh, sorry,” I say, flustered. “Kylie. Kylie Winters.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kylie,” he says. “Are you … here to see Braxton?”
There’s something in his voice. Oh my god, is he asking me if I’m with Braxton? “Yeah, he’s an old friend.”
“But not boyfriend?” he asks.
Wow, a little bold. I like that.
I laugh. “Oh god, no. Braxton and I have known each other since we were kids. He has a girlfriend. Who isn’t me.”
One corner of Derek’s mouth turns up. “Interesting. So, what about you? Braxton isn’t your boyfriend, but is someone else?”
I brush my hair back from my face. I’m feeling a little warm. “No, no boyfriend.”
“That is very surprising,” he says.
“I don’t know about that,” I say.
Derek steps a little closer. “Since I don’t seem to have any competition at the moment, I think I should take advantage. Would you like to go out sometime?”
My mouth opens, but it takes me a second to gather my wits. They seem to have scattered. Did Derek Marshall just ask me out? “I’d love to.”
His smile widens as he pulls out his phone. “How about Tuesday? Give me your number and I’ll text you.”
“Tuesday is great,” I say. Holy shit! We exchange numbers and he puts his phone away.
