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“Relentless,” I finish for her. “Determined. Highly-motivated. Look, Nadia—a woman like you deserves a man who'll put in whatever work it takes to win you over.”
Her lips quirk again.
Smile at me, girl. Smile at me. I fucking love it when she smiles at me.
She keeps up the battle for a moment longer but it’s a battle she just can’t win. Her pretty dark brown eyes do a quick, exasperated spin upward to the overcast sky. But a little grin invades her face—her nostrils flutter and her cheeks swell and those heart-shaped lips tug up at the corners, giving the briefest flash of pearly white teeth.
Touchdown!
“I was going to say annoying, actually.” She laughs softly. “Look—your attention is…flattering. And you are an attractive man. But…there’s just…too many complications.”
“Okay, fine. You’re a teensy bit older than me.”
“Seven years is not a teensy bit.”
My heart jolts. She did the math? Looks like Miss Thing’s been checking up on me.
“Seven years is nothing.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Ilikeyou. What’s delusional about that? You don’t think you’re someone worth liking? Then why the hell are you on the dating market to begin with?”
I lock my gaze on hers. I don’t let go. The heat between us could melt a polar cap and she knows it.
In fact, for a moment, it looks like her defenses are melting just a touch. Then she vigorously shakes her head. “I’m the Paragons’ lawyer.”
“So what? What’s the worst that could happen?”
The way her expression hardens tells me that was the absolute wrong thing to say. Shit—any progress I just made has been erased with a few carelessly chosen words.
“What’s the worst that could happen?!” she spits back, incredulous. “Harry, do you know how unprofessional it would look if I went out with you? That could ruin my reputation. And if we had s—” she stops herself. “If we were…intimate—the last thing I’d want is you slinging my name around the Paragons locker room, making a joke out of me—”
I shake my head vigorously. “I’d never—”
“Plus, you’re an athlete, and I don’t date athletes. Athletes get bored easily.”
“That wouldn’t hap—”
“Athletes sleep around.”
“I don’t slee—”
“Athletes like to party. And I like to be wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket on my couch, drinking merlot and revising contracts all weekend long. Heaven knows I don’t have the energy to be on the party scene, competing with a bunch of frisky, twenty-one-year-old sorority girls in a desperate attempt to hold some guys attention.” Now she’sreallygetting herself worked up.
“Nadia, I know what I want—”
A bitter laugh shoots past her lips. “Oh, sometimes, menthinkthey know what they want. But at the end of the day, the temptation is too strong. Especially when there are easy, willing andbeautifulfootball groupies everywhere. And…” She takes a backward step. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve worked too hard to get the best education, to build my career, to establish my reputation. I won’t throw it all away just because some hot football player wants to get in my pants.”
She just called me ‘hot’. But now might not be the best time to point that out. This woman is working herself up into more of a panic with every excuse she spits out. She won’t let me get a word in edgewise to defend myself.
Finally, she flings a hand up in the air and huffs. “You know what? Why are we even having this conversation? It’s not going to happen between us, Harry.”
There’s no way she misses the way I flinch when she says that.
I take one last try. “Please…?”
Let us bow our heads and observe a moment of silence for my dignity. ‘Cause that bitch is dead.
