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Otto’s grin widens as he registers my obvious surprise. “She’s his little sister.”
I replay what I recall of our short conversation at the stadium. It started with me telling her she was in my seat. Followed by at least one mention of my dick. Jesus. It definitely didn’t involve her mentioning that her brother was the fucking captain of the team we were watching. That I’d remember.
Although I guess I never mentioned I was on the team. Didn’t seem like the smartest idea, after she just made her dislike of the sport obvious.
I move to stand.
Otto grabs my arm with the rapid reflexes of a goalie. “What are you doing?”
“Fresh drink.”
Otto glances at my full glass, then mutters something in German before I walk away, which, I’m guessing, means he knows where I’m really headed.
And I agree; this is stupid. But maybe he’s messing with me.
Maybe I’m just using this as an excuse to indulge my selfishness.
I haven’t gotten laid since I arrived here. I’m stuck in a foreign country, surrounded by strangers. Soccer, my one constant, is a different game here. More attention, a name change, nicer facilities, new teammates. I need to do something I know I shouldn’t, something stupid, just to feel like myself again.
And Kluvberg has a bigger population than Seattle. What are the chances I run into her a third time?
I approach the bar a few feet away from where she’s standing, now animatedly talking to a curvy brunette. Sophia towers over her friend. She was sitting for the entirety of our first interaction. But I’d guess she’s five-nine, maybe even five-ten with heels on. At six-four, I’m used to cricking my neck to talk to a woman.
The moment Sophia spots me, I feel it.
I focus on flagging down the bartender and ordering another club soda, trying to act oblivious to the eyes burning holes in the side of my head.
It only takes a few minutes for her to abandon her friend and walk over.
She says nothing. Just shoves into the space between me and the redhead who was inching nearer, close enough that I can feel her body heat through her short dress and smell the floral scent of her perfume. It’s subtle, not fruity or sweet or cloying in that way that’s suffocating. My dick hardens as I battle the urge to lean closer, and it has nothing to do with my recent celibacy. Everything to do with how she’s easily the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.
Her last name is Beck, I remind myself. At least, I think it is. I haven’t come up with any reason why Otto would be lying.
If I’m going to break Shawn’s rules, there are a million other women who would be much better options. Frankly, any other woman would be a better option. Touching Adler Beck’s little sister would be career suicide.
When I glance over, Sophia’s head is already turned toward me. Her eyes widen slightly when they meet mine, the blue swirling with secret thoughts. The same intense shade that glared at me in the locker room earlier. Her hair is the same blonde color as her brother’s too.
I can’t study her as well in here as I could in the sunshine at Kluvberg’s stadium. Heavier makeup hides the sprinkling of freckles on her nose. The dimmed lights shade the subtler shifts in her expression.
“Hi.”
I pivot so I’m half turned toward her instead of fully facing the bar. “Have we met before?”
Her eyes narrow. Most guys probably fall over themselves just to get a scrap of her attention. She’s the sort of stunning that stands out. That attracts attention.
I grin. Her lips press together in an unimpressed line that looks remarkably similar to the non-smile Adler Beck gave me earlier.
“Nice to see you again…” I let an elongated pause fill where I’d use her name if I wasn’t pretending I didn’t know it.
“Sophia,” she supplies.
Dammit. Otto wasn’t fucking with me.
“Sophia.” I roll the syllables of her name around in my mouth like they’re a taste of the expensive liquor lining the back of the bar.
Intrigue replaces the indifference in her expression when I hold eye contact, which I’m extremely satisfied by.
I doubt she knows who I am. If she’s as affronted by soccer as she acted last Saturday, she doesn’t pay much attention to Kluvberg’s roster changes.
