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“No. I just…” This conversation is futile and I’m not sure where it’s going, so I sigh. “I’ll wear a coat next time.”
“Good.” He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to me. “I only have so many fucking clothes I’m willing to give up.” He’s only wearing that distracting polo shirt beneath it, and it’s freezing out here. I can’t take it from him so I shake my head.
“Put it on, Mackenzie.” His voice is low. He’s annoyed with me.
“No.”
His brow crinkles as though I’m the first person to say that word to him. “Put. It. On.”
“What am I, your kid? You can’t talk to me like that.” And I know it’s not about the coat. Even so, he’s pissing me off. Just shout so we can be done with this, okay?
He lifts his hands up in what looks like frustration. “Just put the coat on so I can talk to you.” He pauses. “Please.” He sounds beseeching now, and I’m feeling sorry for him.
“That’s all I needed,” I mutter, taking it from him and sliding my arms through it. Like his hoodie, it’s ridiculously large on me, but the warmth is enticing.
“I know what your thinking, and I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the truth.”
He gives me one ofthoselooks. A tip-his-head to the side, eyebrows lifted kind of stare. “Didn’t you trust me with the truth?”
Oh. He’shurt. And I don’t like that one bit. In fact, my heart does a weird clenching thing. “Nobody at the Mavericks knows,” I tell him. “Almost nobody outside of the Mavericks knows either.”
“So I’m nobody now?”
I open my mouth and close it again. I have no idea what to say to that.
“I get it.” He steps back. “I understand. You’re not interested.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and his polo shirt lifts enough to expose a sliver of his stomach.
“I’m a fucking idiot,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for bothering you. It won’t happen again.”
My mouth drops open as he turns and walks away. That hammering of my heart against my chest feels like a full on assault now, it’s so fast I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“Eli!” I call out. Okay, it’s more of a scream.Whatever. It does the trick because he stops walking and turns to look at me. And I realize I actually need to say something now other than scream his name.
I take a deep breath, all too aware of his eyes scrutinizing my face.
“I hate people knowing who I am because they treat me differently,” I tell him, having to shout because he’s half way across the lot. “And when they know my name, they Google me, and the stuff that comes up…” I trail off. I don’t want him to look at me differently. I don’t want him to see me as Wayne’s granddaughter or Greg’s daughter or – even worse – the woman who exposed her uncovered nether regions to the nation.
He walks back toward me, reaching out, his hand touching my face. It’s so tender it makes my heart ache even more. His brows are pulled tight, his gaze intense.
And I’m overwhelmed by his closeness. And scared. Of getting hurt by this man who seems to be my friend. Who wants to be more. But being scared isn’t getting me anywhere. It’s just hurting him, too.
“And the thing is, I am interested,” I whisper. “Really interested.”
Breath escapes his lips as he lowers his brow to touch mine. I can feel the flicker of his eyelashes as he blinks.
“But I’m leaving as soon as this job is over,” I tell him. “This thing between us, whatever it is, could only be short term.”
“Just for now.” He nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll take that.”
I inhale sharply. I don’t know whether I’m pleased he’s being so amenable or annoyed that he’s not fighting for more. But I don’t want to play games. I want to be real.
I’m so sick of hiding away.
“I need you to do three things though,” I tell him. “Before we do anything else.”
