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I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why are you being so difficult about this?” I hissed.
Tatum reared back. “Me? Why are you rolling over and playing dead?”
“Because it’s only been three weeks! We’ve hooked up, we’ve had some fun, and you got a fucking awesome house renovation out of the mix. Let’s just leave it as a fond memory and not fuck up more than the fucking we’ve already done.”
“Whether or not you want to, you’re going to have to see my face all damn season. And now that I know who and what you are, I’m not going to be ignored. It’s gonna be hard—yeah. But it’s not impossible.”
“We barely know each other,” I argued. “And you want to risk a big-ass fine over a girl you spent one night with?”
“I got fined six grand last season because my damn shirt was untucked. This would at least be worth it.”
“Maybe for you.” I swallowed. “I can’t have my heart broken again, and I cannot risk losing the team that has meant everything to me.”
