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“Or maybe you need to stay the course, lay low with me until we get the all-clear from Ziggy.”
“She’s interesting. Gorgeous, but you definitely have the sense that she is dangerous.”
“To the wrong people. She knew what to do with Tate.”
“How’d you meet her?”
“At a bar, after a game. She came up to me, bought me a drink, told me that she had big plans for me.”
Iris cocked her head. Oh, she had this way of looking at him that made him feel a little naked. “Big plans?”
“Nothing happened. Just…she asked me to courier some information around once in a while. For the country.”
“Right. Same song, different verse.”
“Huh?”
“It’s what Alfonzo said to me. Such a liar.”
He stared at her. “What did he say to you to get you out on that bridge?”
She took another sip of her juice. “Just…that you were a spy.”
“And you believed him?”
“No—” She sighed. “Okay, maybe I didn’t know, okay?”
“Why? Because I left my country to go play football?”
“No.” Her mouth pinched closed. “Listen, I know a lot of guys who play football in the ELF. But you, Hud—you were about to be a first- or second-round draft pick. And then you just…you dropped out. Disappeared. And then you reappear three years later in the ELF.”
“I played a year of arena ball.”
“Again—I mean, sure, I like arena ball. It’s scrappy and fun for the locals, and a great way for a player to keep playing the game he loves. Maybe even get called up to the league. But then you get picked for ELF and suddenly you’re a star again. So, what happened?”
He just stared at her. Because, hello, and really? His mouth opened. Closed.
Incredible. “Because I—”
The waiter came up, brought them silverware and a plate of cheeses. “Compliments of the chef. He says he’s a big fan.”
Hudson looked at the waiter, who smiled. “A fan?”
“Vienna Vikings? You are Hudson Bly, right?”
Huh.
“Tell him thank you.” He looked at her. Okay, calm down. Because even if his career hadn’t been destroyed with a targeting hit, even if he had landed a first- or second-round pick in the NFL, who knew but he wouldn’t be riding the bench, just like so many of the first-rounders.
Here, he was a star. At least for now.
“You what?” Iris said.
She was pretty today, her dark-blonde hair down, blue eyes. She wore a pair of jeans and a cute off-the-shoulder shirt, bare neck.
Completely not at all the ref he knew on the field.
“I was…injured. And had a bit of a hard time coming back.” Like, seeing double. And the ringing in his ears. Oh, yeah, and he’d forgotten his own name for a bit. So, “But I’m better than ever.” He gave a big smile.
