Part of her wondered if her resistance to allowing him to purchase a home was because she enjoyed house hunting with him so much.
Just as she finished her soup, she saw his car pull into the restaurant’s parking lot. Her position allowed her to observe him crossing the lot on his approach to the restaurant’s entrance. She wouldn’t have thought watching someone walk would be so scintillating, but in his tailored button-down shirt and designer khakis, he looked downright edible.
His clothes reminded her that he’d just come from a meeting with the team’s public relations person. She wondered if that was the reason for his serious expression. The crease in his brow tugged at her.
He glanced up and saw her. She smiled, wanting him to know she’d been watching him. The answering smile that lightened his expression produced a flurry of activity in her chest. It pleased her to be the source of any joy in Callan’s day. Whatever it was that weighed on him, she wanted to ease the load.
It occurred to her as she followed his progress into the restaurant that he had become more than just a one-night stand or a real estate client over the past couple months. He had become a friend. He was someone she felt comfortable talking to about nearly anything that crossed her mind. She wanted to offer him support if he needed it, much as she knew if she ever needed anything, he would be the first to offer help. Although she made friends easily and many of those friends were male, Callan was the first one she’d ever been attracted to.
It was quite…unsettling.
“Hey there, Gorgeous,” he greeted her as he took his seat. Waving at her empty soup bowl, he asked, “Did you eat without me?”
“Just some soup. I hope you don’t mind. I skipped breakfast.”
“No, that’s fine. Was it good?”
“Delicious.”
When the server stopped by their table, Callan ordered himself a bowl of the soup and the grilled salmon lunch plate. She ordered the smoked turkey wrap with a side of fruit salad. Callan’s healthier eating habits were rubbing off on her when they ate together.
“How’d your meeting go?” she asked.
He lifted a hand and tilted it back and forth in a so-so gesture. “I’ll be getting more involved in the team’s community work, which is a good thing.”
“It certainly sounds like it.”
“Yeah. I’m actually looking forward to it. Sounds like it’s going to be something with kids.”
It amused her to picture him surrounded by screaming kids. “You don’t have any siblings, so no nieces or nephews running around. How experienced are you with kids?”
“Not at all.”
She grinned. “Oh, I wish I could be there to see that.”
A concerned expression crossed his face. “Do you think I should switch it up? There’s a homeless shelter or retirement home I could work with instead.”
“Nope,” she said. “The kids are gonna love you.”
His gaze narrowed. “I feel as though you’re setting me up.”
“For fun, of course.”
“Hmm.”
He took a drink of his water and continued watching her. She just kept on smiling as she pictured what he had ahead of him.
“Anyway,” he said, clearly ready to drop that topic, “it seems the team wants even more commitment from me than just this volunteering.”
“Really? What more do they want? You’ve been working on your conditioning and getting in some ice time well before the preseason starts. You said that’s more than a lot of players do.”
“Yes, and those are positive steps, not that the coaches really know about them yet. The commitment they’re concerned about is more on the personal life side of things. They’re concerned about my reputation as a…we’ll say ladies’ man.”
“You mean a player.”
He gave her a dry look. “Yeah. Anyway, the team wants me out of the social media feeds and tabloids, which means no more partying and, well…”
“Living it up with the ladies?”
“To a point.”
She shook her head. “That feels awfully invasive of them. Your personal life is your personal life.”
“Are you telling me that if Arnie discovered footage of you publicly getting busy with someone in a club that it wouldn’t impact your job?”
She held a finger up at him. “First off, I want to revisit that little story of yours sometime. Second off, touché.”
His mouth curved as he once again reached for his water. His eyes were on hers as he said, “The truth is, Rox, I’ve recently decided that I’m ready for a more committed lifestyle. Not just in hockey, but in every aspect of my life.”
Despite all of her happy thoughts about him before he arrived, his statement had alarm bells sounding in her head. Enjoying her growing friendship and connection with him was one thing, What he was angling towards was entirely another.
Years of lone wolf instinct had her throwing up her defenses. She knew where he was headed.
And she couldn’t let him get there.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said in a deliberately light tone. “Hopefully that means you’ll be ready to commit to a home soon. I really need that commission.”
She saw the joking comment sting him, had a moment to regret the choice of words, but there was no taking them back. She valued his newfound friendship too much to risk damaging it, and she didn’t want to send out the wrong signal implying she was at the same commitment level he was. She had way too much on her plate to shuffle in a relationship, no matter how attracted to him she might be.
Chapter Eighteen
“Yo, hold up. Why I gotta pair up wit’ a ol’ white dude?”
Callan’s eyebrows lifted over the greeting by his newly matched P.A.L.—short for Pillars of Atlanta Leadership. The acronym applied to each of the volunteers and youths enrolled at the Michael Sanderson Center for Boys and Girls.
Callan had attended the grand opening of the center with most of his teammates just over three months ago. He made a significant contribution after having an in-depth conversation with the center’s founder, Caroline Sanderson. Caroline was the current owner of Atlanta’s Major League Baseball team, having inherited the role when her husband, Michael, passed away the year before. From everything Javy had shared about her, she was among the most invested owners in the league. Between that and her goal to raise future leaders from kids who otherwise might not have that opportunity, Callan had found the center worth supporting.
That was why he mentioned it as a preference for volunteering when Vivian asked whether he had any. And because all of the city’s professional sports teams partnered with the center, something Caroline had made happen through her many connections, it hadn’t been difficult for Vivian to get him in. Only a week after their meeting, he was matched with one fourteen-year-old Rashied Arnold.
Who looked like he had just come across something dead and mangled as he stared at Callan.
This is going well, Callan thought.
“Rashied, is that any way to greet your potential P.A.L.?”
The question was asked by one of the center’s liaisons, a cheerful African American woman named Shay. She was currently with Callan and Rashied in one of the center’s greeting rooms used when new potential P.A.L.s were first introduced. The liaison made the introductions, gauged how the P.A.L.s vibed, and then either decided to change the pairing or allowed the two P.A.L.s to remain paired.