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I hold back a cringe and instead, shrug my shoulders. “Sure. You ladies might need someone to carry your shopping bags. I could be there for that.”
She’s trying so damn hard to keep her face neutral but there’s amusement in her eyes. I can see it.God—she’s a beautiful sight.
“After your game the other night, I’m thinking you might want to spend your day off doing something a little more productive than walking around the mall, carrying my bags.”
I slow-blink, my eyebrows easing up under the rim of my cap. “You watched my game the other night?”
Nadia’s eyes guiltily shift away from mine. She lifts her car starter in the direction of a very shiny black Audi and hits a button. “Yes, I watched the game. I…I watchallthe Paragons games. I’m the Paragons lawyer. Watching the Paragons games is practically part of my job…as the Paragons lawyer, of course.” Now, she just sounds defensive. That’s a stretch and we both know it.
In any case, if she watched the game the other night, it’s safe to assume that I might have crossed her mind—at least once or twice—since our head-on collision at the brewery two days ago. I won’t ask the question outright, though. That would be pushing my luck.
“Okay, Miss Watching-Paragons-Games-Is-Just-Part-Of-My-Job. Since you clearly have your opinions about my performance during the last game, let me hear ‘em.” I grin at her.
Nadia's eyes glitter with eagerness and she opens her mouth, ready to give me a piece of her mind.
But I hold up a hand to stop her. “Over a couple of drinks? My treat.”
A cautious look automatically slips over her face. I feel her put yet another inch between us. She’s all business again. “Thank you for walking me to my car, Harry. It was sweet of you but—”
I scoff playfully. “Sweet? I wasn’t going for sweet. I was going for sexy…intriguing…irresistible.”
Dropping her chin, she rolls her eyes. But I can see it—at the corners of her mouth—I see the way her lips twitch. She wants to smile. She’s fighting it like crazy.
I press on. “Let’s put my football game on the back burner for a second. Just checking in—how are you liking my flirtation game so far?”
Two perfect eyebrows jerk upward in faux shock and a coil of dark hair tumbles adorably across her forehead. “Oh, you’ve been flirting?”
Ouch!
I chuckle, loving the wicked glint in her eyes, loving this glimpse at the lighter version of Nadia that rarely ever comes out to play. “All right. Fine. You’re saying my flirtation game needs a little bit of work,” I concede, rubbing the center of my chest where my heart is playing a vigorous game of pingpong against my ribcage.
She holds her thumb and pointer finger an inch apart, her eyes dancing happily. “A teensy bit.”
“Maybe you can give me a few pointers, help me come up with a strategy…” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep my grin from spreading too wide. “My offer is still on the table—have a beer with me.”
She tilts her head. “Harry…”
“Wine? Kombucha? Herbal tea? Buckwheat porridge?”
She steps toward her car door. I slide in front of her, blocking her path, praying she doesn’t knee me in the balls.
She really doesn't trust me. That sucks. I'm a pretty cool guy. I want to make her see that.
I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m sure they have sippy cups and juice boxes somewhere in the community center…Come on, Nadia. Have a drink with me.”
The mistrustful expression she gives me makes my chest ache.Damn, babe—who hurt you? And what's his address, so I can go over there and fuck up his entire life?!
“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“There’s nothing inappropriate about giving a friend some dating pointers.”
“I don’t remember us becoming friends,” she counters, her eyes narrowing. “And I’m definitely not a dating expert.”
“But I’m assuming you’re a Nadia-expert. And since Nadia’s the woman I’d like to date, I figured you’d be the perfect person to ask…” My voice lowers. “Just tell me what you like. And I’ll make it happen.”
I notice the way her expression wavers. Her posture softens. Her body language is a perfect contradiction to the words her lips are saying. She feels something. She’s fighting it. I can see that.
“You’re—”
