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Who was I kidding? I was horrible at flirting in any capacity.
“Willow?”
Goddammit!
I gritted my teeth, recognition not clicking until my hands fell away and I turned to whoever this was, because for once, I was going to have my say and someone would respect it.
“I hate that nam—” I stopped, my eyes widening. “Holy shit.” It was Brett Broudou with another guy, who was big, Black, and bald—holy shit! “You’re Olvander Barrio. You sacked Hawk Maldonado three times in a game, and that was just the first half. Of course, you were the only reason the Kings were still in it, but you held that record until—” My gaze swung to Brett, and I remembered how I felt about him. I scowled. “You’re a dick.”
“Damn!” Olvander barked out.
“You’re so off the mark with me,” I continued. “A part of me felt bad for you, because for you to think I was some sort of con set for you? That’s horrible. What must’ve happened in your life for you to think that way? And then I remembered you thought that about me. Me! I was going to have coffee with you. I’ve not gone on a date for seven years. Seven. I don’t do casual sex, so think on that.”
Brett glanced to the door, which was being held open by a staff person trying to pretend they couldn’t hear us. Brett nodded to his friend. “Ole, can I meet you inside?”
Olvander choked back laughter, his giant shoulders shaking. “Sure. Yeah, buddy. Have fun groveling. If she dusts you, I won’t bring a broom. I’ll show up with a whole vacuum cleaner, because you done blew it with this one.”
He went inside, and the door closed.
Brett swung his head back my way, and whoa. He’d been holding back with his buddy here. Now he was all intense, and the air felt sweltering around us. He moved toward me, slowly, and I only had two steps until I was against the wall.
He was in my space, leaning down.
I gulped.
“First off, what name do you prefer? I don’t want to keep messing up with you.”
He…what? I blinked. “You don’t?”
He growled, moving in another step, “What name?”
“Billie.” Oh, boy. He was super close. Like, I could feel his body heat kind of close. “My little brother called me Billie. Most everyone in my life knows not to use that other name.”
“You have a little brother?” His voice was still intense, but softer.
What is going on here? I nodded, faintly. “Had. He’s dead. He and my mom got in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
I started to shrug, an old habit to deflect because I never liked talking about him, but then I was. “His name was Ben. He kept calling me Willy, and that got changed to Billy because he decided one Christmas that we should both have B names. I spell it with the ‘-ie’ because I felt it was more girly. I used to like being a girl back then.”
His eyebrows lowered. “You don’t now?” And he took one more step, the last step. His hand moved to the wall beside me. The other went to my stomach, touching me slightly.
His touch seared me.
It was overwhelming, welcomed, and alien all at the same time. It’d been so long since I felt anything remotely close to this, but even when I had, it didn’t compare to…whatever this was between us.
“I thought you hated me?” I asked.
His eyes were grave as he shook his head. “This is not an excuse, because I fucked up royally, but my football stats aside, I don’t know if you’re aware of my personal history. I didn’t grow up good. I have a twin brother—”
“You do?”
“—who’s in prison.”
“He is?”
“He went in for attempted rape, and never left because of all the bad shit he’s done in there.”
