“Yeah,” I agree, thinking of my own siblings and parents and how I could be the worst player in the league and they’d still think I was the best.
Jenna looks tired, and our date has just started. I’m not about to let her go down a dark hole because of the horrific memories she just dredged up.
Releasing her hand, I lift my wineglass and hold it aloft again, indicating for her to do the same. “Let’s play Twenty Questions. I bet we can really get to know each other well by the salad course.”
Jenna laughs, and I’m relieved. She taps her glass against mine. “What are the rules?”
“No rules. Just twenty probing questions designed to learn about each other. Bonus points if they make the other person laugh.”
“Filling up buckets,” she says, and I incline my head at her in surprise.
“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s put in a rule that says our subject matter has to be designed to fill up each other’s buckets.”
“I like that,” she agrees and sips her wine. Her face relaxes into a pleased smile, and I’m relieved.
♦
Dinner lasted two and a half hours, and I could’ve stayed in the restaurant and continued talking. It was a yawn from Jenna, though, that got me calling for the check. I learned through the course of our conversation that she’s been putting in long hours the last few weeks and has to be up early.
We have a home game tomorrow, and that usually means an early morning for me as well.
Despite the fact she’s tired and we’re both mellow from wine and an incredible meal, the conversation rolls easily on the drive home. Our Twenty Questions evolved into a hundred questions, each of us volleying queries in an easygoing manner, both of us sponges, soaking up information about the other.
I’m lucky to find a spot not too far from the front door of her building, and I walk her up because that’s what I was raised to do (along with opening doors).
At her apartment, I take the keys she’d pulled from her purse and slip the designated one into the lock. I release the dead bolt and push open the door, but I stand my ground as she turns to look up at me.
“I had a really great time, Gage. Thank you.”
I want to tell her the same. Even hearing about the fire and all the pain she endured, the evening as a whole was the best time I’ve had in forever. I certainly can’t remember a dinner exchange with a woman being so fluid. I’m flattered that Jenna trusted me enough to let me in on her dark history.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I slide my left hand up and along the right side of her neck. Jenna flinches as my fingers graze over the scars before wrapping around to the back. Her eyes widen as I pull her upward, and she goes to her tiptoes as I bend down.
“Been thinking about doing this all night,” I murmur, just before I press my mouth to hers.
Jenna’s hands come to my chest, and she sighs into my mouth. A jolt of lust drives through me, something I wasn’t expecting, but I don’t hold back in deepening the kiss. My tongue slides against hers, and damn… it feels like every nerve in my body is firing with pleasure and excitement.
If she were a different woman—one I didn’t already care about—I might let this become nothing more than a hookup.
But Jenna is Jenna, and this stops here at her front door.
At least for tonight.
I lift my head, breaking the kiss, and smile as I peer down at her, her mouth parted slightly and eyes still closed. They finally flutter open to stare at me solemnly. “Wow,” she says.
I grin. “Good kiss?”
“I mean,” she demurs, batting her eyelashes, “it was all right.”
“Second date will be better,” I promise. And I’m not asking, I’m telling her. “Drinks after the game Saturday night?”
Something shutters in her eyes, and she tries to look away.
“Please don’t do that,” I say, putting my fingers under her chin and forcing her gaze up. “Don’t withdraw.”
Her eyes are so clouded with uncertainty, I kiss her again because sometimes words don’t work. I feel her immediately melt… accept.
I murmur against her mouth. “You’re not allowed to have doubts. Not with me.”
I can feel the smile that plays at her lips, but I lift my head back. Her hands, still on my chest, press into me. “What’s weird is that I hardly know you… but I don’t doubt you. It’s me I doubt.”
“Not allowed to do that either,” I reprimand gently. “I like you, Jenna. I want to get to know you better. I’m also a straight talker, and while I ordinarily wouldn’t be this forward, you have to know I’m attracted to you.” She tenses at that proclamation, but I ignore it. “So when I say I want to get to know you better, it means in all ways.”
Her eyes flare, and I’m more than satisfied when I see a tiny spark of heat within. “I’m not going to stop wanting to see you, but I will let you set the pace. Just be prepared to spend time with me, okay?”
Jenna takes in a breath, lets it out, and nods. “Okay. I think I can handle that.”
“Good.” I smile, and just because I can, I kiss her one more time before leaving her at her door.
CHAPTER 10
Jenna
The knock on my office door startles me, and I flush with embarrassment when I realize I’ve drifted off again.
Mesmerized by the flowers on my desk that arrived this morning.
From Gage.
The door opens and Brienne pops her head in and my flush deepens. As if she somehow knows that I’ve had trouble concentrating today and can’t stop staring at the gorgeous arrangement of spring tulips, stargazer lilies, and miniature roses, all in subtle pastels. The bouquet is huge and breathtaking, and I’m afraid that I’m entirely smitten with Gage Heyward.
“How are things going with the scheduling for the film?” Brienne asks as she steps into my office.
“I’ve got all the interviews scheduled—including yours—except for Coach Keller’s.” The man has been utterly exasperating. “I can’t get him to respond to my emails.”
Irritation flashes on her face. “I’ll have Callum handle it.”
“That would be great,” I reply with a grateful smile. “General filming starts next week with the first footage at the game in Detroit.”
Brienne’s eyes slide to the bouquet with an appreciative smile. “Please tell me I didn’t miss your birthday?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “From an admirer.”
Brienne cocks a playful eyebrow, walks to the card that I left out of the envelope but tucked into the flowers. Without asking my permission—which I would have given—she pulls the note free and reads it out loud. “‘I had an amazing time last night and can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Gage.’”
Eyes sparkling, Brienne tucks the card back into the foliage. “Gage? As in Gage Heyward?”
I didn’t know a blush could actually be as hot as mine feels, but it sizzles from my forehead to the back of my neck. Brienne’s eyebrows rise—she must take my red face as an admission.
“Oh wow,” she breathes out, giving me a look that says she knows exactly how amazing last night must’ve been for me to receive an arrangement like this.