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"Baby girl, if you'd agree to be mine already, I wouldn't have to say it on the phone," the man growls. "You keep tellin' me no."
My eyes grow big as she splutters into the phone. I thought she was on hold with the phone company, but he doesn't sound like any account representative I've ever spoken with. Judging by the way she's blushing, it's clear they've been through this before.
I'm officially dying of curiosity.
"Zayne, I can't date you," she hisses.
Zayne? As in Zayne Carmichael?
He and his brothers own a private security firm. They help us out with security for events. I did not know he was interested in Emma. Though, maybe I should have been considering how he glares at his brothers whenever they come near her. Emma usually hides when he comes around. I thought it was because she was shy and he's a little intimidating, but maybe I'm just oblivious.
"Why the fuck not?" he asks.
"We work together."
My phone vibrates with an incoming text. I slip back into my office, giving Emma privacy to talk to Zayne. I make a note to talk to her about him later though. Both because I'm nosy as hell and because I don't care if they go out. Zayne will be good for her. He won't let her get away with hiding in the background the way she likes to do.
Gray: Did you know that Boy Scouts climb mountains? Because I didn't know that. I can't breathe, Camila. Or feel my legs. Help. Me.
As soon as I read his message, I laugh out loud. He is so overdramatic! Kelsey wasn't lying when she said he's different than other athletes. He's honestly a mess. It shouldn't be nearly as attractive as it is…but I kind of love it. He's bossy and growly and doesn't take himself too seriously. He's also ridiculously hot and a little bit nerdy.
Gray: I'm dying, and I never even got to kiss those sweet lips.
How it's possible to laugh and swoon at the same time, I don't know, but I do. And then I text him back.
Me: You aren't dying, Gray. You're camping.
Gray: Oh. Is there a difference?
Gray: I hope you know you're going to pay for this,querida.
Note to self: Hockey players—even the nerdy ones—make terrible Boy Scouts.
I stumble into my desk, cracking my knee against the hard wood. I have to hop on one leg around the side of it to my chair before I can text him back. I swear, every time he calls me that, I melt into a pile of goo.
Me: That's awful big talk for a man who can't breathe or feel his legs.
Me: How do you even have cell service on a mountain?
Gray: Listen, Linda. Worry about yourself.
Me: Noted. Cancelling the rescue chopper.
Gray: Wait! I was only kidding.
Gray: Camila?
Gray: Baby, come back.
"Oh, jeez," I mutter, my heart fluttering. He iscara de pau,shameless. I like it way more than I should.
Gray: Keep being cruel then. You'll pay for it later.
I hesitate, torn between texting him back and trying to keep this conversation from getting more unprofessional. I like him. Maybe he will break my heart in the end and prove that athletes can't be trusted. But at least I'll have given it a chance instead of hiding behind my job and letting what happened to Ana cast a shadow over my life. I've been so damn afraid of getting close to anyone since we lost her, afraid that I'd trust the wrong man.
But I want to trust Gray. So damn badly.
I'm a twenty-four-year-old virgin who hasn't made it off the bench since I was fifteen and had my first kiss. But he makes me want to change that when no one else has ever even come close. I may be a coward when it comes to dating, but I'm not crazy. I know that probably means something important. So I push my fears to the side and text him back.
