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“We’re out of the playoffs. Of course I’m acting like that.”
“Well…”
“Yeah.” He slurps the coffee. “Why did you pick this joint? A little out of the way from your hotel.”
I gesture to the building across the street. “She’s up with her friends.”
“And you can’t get in?” His brows draw together. “Since when has a doorman ever stopped you?”
I lean back in my chair. I ordered waffles and bacon for both of us, and the waitress is heading our way. Once she’s dropped it off and wandered away again, I answer him.
“I bribed the guy last night to get me up. Picking their condo lock wasn’t terribly challenging. A simple deadbolt and knob lock. But Mel apparently told them I’m a stalker, so…”
“Showing up on their doorstep would be bad form.” He hunches over his food, gaze contemplative across the street. His attention snags on someone exiting. “I know him.”
I follow his line of sight to the dark-haired man heading for a matte-black car someone just brought around.
“Caleb Asher. Defense attorney.” Knox smiles. “He helped Willow out.”
“Has she forgiven you, by the way?”
He snickers. “Let’s put it this way: she wasdefinitelyrooting for your team last night.”
Well, he kind of deserves it.
“So what’s your excuse?”
He stares at me.
I wave my hand. “What’s your excuse for playing like shit last night?”
“Oh.” He chooses that moment to stuff waffle and bacon—together—in his mouth. Asshole. He chews slowly and finally fucking swallows. “That.”
“That,” I repeat.
He goes for another bite, and I snatch his fork.
“Knox.”
He straightens in his seat. “Never come between a man and his food, Jakey.”
Oh, fuck that. I grab his plate of waffles and bacon and set them on my side of the table. He lunges forward, and I palm his forehead and shove him back. There’s a clatter of silverware, and he glowers at me.
“Speak, and you’ll get your waffles back.”
“You’re such a buzzkill.”
“I want to know what you’re going to blame this on whenever you’re done moping,” I snap back. “Please don’t say you ate a bad burrito or you couldn’t find a girl to service you before the game—”
“I got my dick sucked just fine.” Knox cracks a smile. “Butjeez, you insufferable baby. I’ll tell you.” He shifts in his seat. “Maybe later.”
I take a bite of his waffles, and he groans.
“Okay, okay. I got served.”
Served…
“With legal documents?”
