Page 6 of His Perfect Gift

Me:No.

AJ:Come on.

Me:Hell no.

AJ:Fine. You’re probably lying anyway. I bet you really are an old, creepy-looking troll stalking me. I should be the one wary of being catfished.

Goddammit. My ego took a hit, and I was going to do something reckless to prove a point. I yanked up my shirt and took a picture of my eight-pack abs. I worked hard for those every damn day of my life.

“I’ll fucking show you,” I muttered and sent the picture. Not even a second passed before she responded.

AJ:Oh my God! You’re hot. I want to see your face.

I smirked. At least I still had it. But I needed to end this before it got out of hand. Because there was no way in hell I was going to pursue this.

Me:Goodnight, AJ.

I clicked out of the app and deleted it off my phone before I had time to change my mind.

Sighing, I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I was always known as a role model, a man who had a squeaky-clean background and was ethical. I was never one to get distracted by temptation.

And I wouldn’t succumb to it tonight either.

Two days later, I was meeting Bill, Johana, and Amber at Knife—one of the best steakhouses in Dallas. He wanted me to talk to her personally and give her the rundown of the events for the holiday charity.

As my driver, Ben, wheeled the Cadillac SUV up to the valet, my phone buzzed with a text.

Bill:I got us a table in the back section of the restaurant.

You had to make reservations for this place months in advance, but when you were a beloved ex-professional athlete, you had perks. Bill didn’t mind taking advantage of those perks.

When I entered the restaurant, I sent a quick reply to Bill. Before I pocketed my phone, I double-checked the text message, making sure I sent it to him. I thought about the potential debacle I could’ve had with AJ. Luckily, I deleted that temptation. But not a moment passed where I wasn’t consumed by those photos that I’d seen of her. Unfortunately, I couldn’tunseewhat I’d seen. It was stamped in my brain. Cursing under my breath, I shoved my phone into my pocket.

“Mr. Thomas.” I was greeted by the restaurant manager, Phil. “Your table is in the private area.”

“Thank you.” I followed him and smiled and waved at patrons who recognized me. Being a former football star, it wasn’t unusual. We passed through the back area, the section usually reserved for private parties. Bill raised his hand, waving me over.

Leave it to my friend to be extra and reserve a last-minute spot in the private dining area.

“We could’ve dined at the bar,” I quipped, shaking his hand, leaning in to give Johana a hug.

“No. Too noisy. Besides, Amber is bringing a date, and I want to get to know this guy.”

I dropped down into the seat across from them. “Must be serious if she’s bringing a date to meet the parents.”

“Actually, it’s a first date,” Johana said, taking a sip of her chardonnay.

I raised my brows. “Pretty ballsy of this dude to sit down with the parents on a first date.”

“It was my idea,” Bill said.

My mouth quirked. “You gonna make him take care of the tab tonight?” Knowing Bill, he would pull that shit as a test, and Knife was a very expensive restaurant. We’d never left this place without having a bill under two thousand dollars.

“I might,” he deadpanned, and Johana slapped his arm playfully and mouthed the word “no.”

Honestly, if I had a daughter, and she was out on a first date with a guy I didn’t know, I’d probably do the same thing.

Bill glanced over my shoulder and broke out into a smile. “There she is.”

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