Playing to Win
Page 10
“One lives in Denver, and the other in Chicago. Whenever I have games there, we meet for dinner. Otherwise, no. They come home to see family over the holidays, and I’m usually home in the off-season, so our visits don’t coincide.”
“I’m sorry. I suppose now that you’re back you’ll make new friends.”
He rimmed the tip of his shot glass with his fingertip and gave her a lazy smile. “I already have.”
“At the club.”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“Those are groupies, not friends. You can make the distinction, can’t you?”
“I think you’re hung up too much on the friends thing. Guys don’t need close friends like women seem to. With guys, wherever we are, that’s who our friends are. We don’t call guys on the phone to chat for hours. We don’t go shopping together. Guys don’t need the bonding rituals that women seem to need.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She’d let that one drop…for now. But she’d get back to it, because he was wrong. He’d isolated himself for years, and there was a reason for it. Tonight wasn’t the night to discuss it in-depth.
Not when there was great music and amazing ambience. Instead, she listened to the band play and the singer belt out more mournful songs that filled her soul. It was captivating. This place was lovely and, though crowded, it was understated. No one came up to Cole and bothered him. He blended in and they were able to enjoy the band without being bombarded with women or the media.
“It’s still early,” he said, holding out her chair for her. “Let’s go take a walk.”
“Sure.”
He held the door for her, but instead of taking her to the car, he led her across the street. There was a festival going on near the riverfront about a half a block away.
“Can you walk in those things?” he asked, directing his gaze toward her heels.
She grinned. “Of course.”
“I think I should hold your hand.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Why?”
“First, because I’m afraid you’re going to trip and fall. And second, if this was a real date, that’s what I’d do.”
“All right.”
There were tents set up with beer and food, a live band up on a stage as well as crafts and all forms of entertainment. It was lively and the area was packed with people enjoying the festival.
Savannah was definitely overdressed, but she didn’t care. She loved watching the people mingle. The band was playing some very loud rock music, and the crowd was electrified.
Cole held tight to her hand as they strolled among the vendors hawking pottery, jewelry, artwork, and the like. Savannah enjoyed fairs like this, loved to stop at each tent to see what they were selling.
“Is this what you’d really do if you were out on a date?” she asked as they stopped to buy a drink from one of the food carts.
“Sure it is.”
She took a drink of the lemonade. It was tart and sweet. Absolutely perfect on a hot night. “Somehow I can’t see you doing a riverfront fair.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem your type of fun thing to do.”
“You don’t know me all that well, Peaches.”
He was right about that. She only knew him on paper. “That’s what this exercise is all about. Getting to know you better so I can clear up any misconceptions I might have about you.”
“Yeah, well, it seems like you have a lot of them.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “Do I?”
“Obviously. You thought all I liked to do was hang out in nightclubs and have orgies with women.”
She gasped. “Now how could you possibly make that kind of generalization?”
“I don’t know. How could you?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, Cole, for a man you’re awfully sensitive.”
“And you’re a typical woman who judges on first impression.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not easily insulted,” she said with a laugh. “And if this is how you talk to the women you date, it’s no wonder you frequent the clubs.”
“What does that mean?”
She caught the frown and the way his body straightened as he tensed.
“It means in a club atmosphere it’s mostly groups. It wouldn’t be a one-on-one type of situation, so you don’t have to get close to anyone. The so-called date we had tonight was quieter, more time for one-on-one conversation, which allows a woman to ask probing questions, to become more intimately familiar with you.”
“And you’re saying I don’t want that?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Hey, I like intimately familiar.”
“I’m not talking about sex.”
“Neither was I.”
Her lips curved. “Liar. You were, too.”
“Okay, maybe I was.”
They walked across the street to his car. She climbed in and he started the engine.
“So what would be your next move—if this were an actual date?” she asked.
He was silent as he pulled onto the highway and headed west. “I’d take the woman home.”
He did just that, and walked Savannah to her door. She took her keys out of her purse and was about to tell Cole good night.
“And if this were a real date, this is where I’d go in for the kiss.”
Before she could object, he had his arms around her, tugging her close, his mouth coming down on hers.
It wasn’t a forceful, demanding kiss. Instead, he brushed his lips across hers.
Shocked, all she could do was hold on to his arms. She opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside. Warm pleasure spread throughout her body, wrapping her in a foggy sensation of want and need.
For a minute she forgot all about the purpose of this night. Instead, all she thought about was the way Cole held her, the way he lazily stroked her back when he kissed her. Up close, he smelled like everything she loved about a man—crisp, clean, and sensual. She lost herself in the way his lips moved over hers, the magical way his hands cupped the back of her head and tangled in her hair when he deepened the kiss. And when he pressed her against the door, his body aligning with hers, lord have mercy but she thrilled to the feel of him, all hard angles and planes.
All hard. All over, especially between his legs, where he rocked against her sex, making her wet and quivery.
She’d invite him inside, where he’d pull the zipper down on her dress and fill his hands with her breasts. She could already imagine his mouth on her nipples, his hand inside her panties, coaxing her to the orgasm she so desperately needed.
She whimpered.
“Invite me in, Peaches,” he whispered against her lips.
And then reality set in, and she remembered she wasn’t on an actual date with Cole.
He wasn’t hers to do with as she pleased. And she certainly didn’t belong to him.
She splayed her hands on his chest and gave him slight pressure.
He took a step back.
She swallowed, her body, her senses, still filled with him. She fought for breath, willed her rapidly beating heart to slow down while she made eye contact with Cole and silently begged for understanding.
He straightened, then his lips curved in a hint of a smug smile.
“And that’s what I’d do with a woman I was out on a date with, Peaches. Except it wouldn’t end there.”
He turned and got into his car, started up the engine, and pulled away.
Savannah opened the door, the cold of the air-conditioning inside doing nothing to quell the blast of heat burning inside her body.
No, it definitely wouldn’t have ended here.
Not if they’d been on a real date.
Not if he really belonged to her.
SEVEN
COLE HAD A WORKOUT AT THE TEAM TRAINING FACILITY the next day. It was his first time being with the entire team, to see how the offense would mesh together.
It was mainly drills today and working with the conditioning coaches. There’d be no formations, unfortunately. He was eager to get in a line and take a pass from Cassidy, show the Traders what he was capable of.
This was going to be the year he’d become a star. He was home now and this was the right team. It might not be game time yet, but something was gelling for him. There was a renewed sense of fire in his gut that he hadn’t felt since he was a rookie. And if he had to grind his cleats over all the other wide receivers to show the team how good he was, that’s what he’d do.
He’d noticed Liz and Savannah on the sidelines watching the drills, decided to ignore them both while he worked out with the coaches. No distractions today, not when he was focused on work. He tuned them out until four hours later when he was drenched in sweat and every muscle in his body screamed in pain from the nonstop drills and sprints they’d put him through.
“You’re done,” the trainer said to the wide receivers. “Hit the showers.”
Thank god. He pulled off his helmet and walked to the sideline for a drink.
“You’re huffing and puffing like an old man,” Liz said, leaning her hip against the drink table. “Too tough for you out there?”
He downed the drink in two gulps, then tossed the cup in the trash and grinned at her. “Nope. Just the way I like it.”
He shifted his gaze to Savannah. “What are you doing here?”
“Observing.”
“Did I pass or fail?”
“You didn’t punch any of the coaches or any of the other players, so I’d call it a good day.”
He laughed. “Come on. I’m not that bad, Peaches.”
“Aren’t you? I’ve read your file. You’re not exactly known for playing well with others.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Then we’ll take you to lunch,” Liz said.
He shrugged. “Fine with me.”
He showered off the grime and pieces of turf, changed clothes, and met Savannah and Liz in the parking lot. He wasn’t sure, but this felt a little like some kind of intervention. “You’re not both here to gang up on me, are you?”
Liz linked her arm in his. “Afraid of two small women?”
“Normal women? No. You two? Yes.”
Liz gave him a diabolical laugh. “Good. You should be wary of us. We’ve been plotting.”
He shifted his gaze to Savannah, who cast an innocent look his way.
Bullshit. He wasn’t buying it.
“Christ.” He raked his hand through his damp hair. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
They drove to a restaurant. It was past lunch hour, but too early for dinner. Still, he was starving so he was glad the place was open. He was in the mood for a giant burger, which he ordered as soon as the waiter showed up to take their drink order.
Liz grabbed the bread basket, then pushed it aside. “No. Wedding. Must fit into my dress.”
Savannah gave her a smile. “Just one piece?”
“Don’t enable me. I’m resisting carbs until after the wedding. After that I’m going to devour an entire loaf of French bread. Possibly an entire bakery of bread. Poor Gavin. He might have to take me to a bakery on our wedding night.”
Savannah laughed. “You’re a stronger woman than I am. I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
Cole frowned. “Why can’t you have the bread?”
“You’re such a guy. You don’t understand. My dress fits me. I mean really fits me. I have to watch everything I eat right now.”
He shook his head. “Women.”
“It’s only a few days,” Liz said, then turned to Savannah. “I’m dreaming of bread and pasta, though.”
“I would be, too,” Savannah said with a sigh. Then reached for the bread. “Sorry.”
“Bitch. I hate you. I’m going to watch you eat every bite.”
Women were odd creatures. He wasn’t even going to try to figure that out. Instead, he ate his salad, glad to be eating something and ignorant of the female species.
“So let’s talk media interviews,” Savannah said after they’d all filled their stomachs.
Content after the giant hamburger he’d devoured, Cole pushed his empty plate to the side and took a drink of iced tea. “What media interviews?”
“One of the local news stations wants to do a piece on your coming to the Traders for their ten o’clock sports cast.”
He looked at Savannah, then shook his head. “Me and the media don’t mesh.”
“They’re going to have to,” Liz said. “You can’t avoid PR forever just because a few guys with cameras have pissed you off in the past.”
“This is true,” Savannah added. “The whole purpose of me working with you is to get you media ready. You’re going to have to do interviews.”
He leaned back in the chair. “The media makes up shit about me. They’re going to go into this with preconceived notions about me. You know they’re going to bring up everything that’s happened in the past.”
Savannah nodded. “That could be. I’ll coach you on how to handle those questions, downplay the negative and accentuate all the positive aspects of you being with the Traders this year.”
“This doesn’t sound like a good idea.” He’d never volunteered for media interviews. Not since they started going south on him.
“It’s necessary,” Liz said. “The sooner you get started working with the media and turning your image around, the better it will be for you.”
“I’m sorry. I suppose now that you’re back you’ll make new friends.”
He rimmed the tip of his shot glass with his fingertip and gave her a lazy smile. “I already have.”
“At the club.”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“Those are groupies, not friends. You can make the distinction, can’t you?”
“I think you’re hung up too much on the friends thing. Guys don’t need close friends like women seem to. With guys, wherever we are, that’s who our friends are. We don’t call guys on the phone to chat for hours. We don’t go shopping together. Guys don’t need the bonding rituals that women seem to need.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She’d let that one drop…for now. But she’d get back to it, because he was wrong. He’d isolated himself for years, and there was a reason for it. Tonight wasn’t the night to discuss it in-depth.
Not when there was great music and amazing ambience. Instead, she listened to the band play and the singer belt out more mournful songs that filled her soul. It was captivating. This place was lovely and, though crowded, it was understated. No one came up to Cole and bothered him. He blended in and they were able to enjoy the band without being bombarded with women or the media.
“It’s still early,” he said, holding out her chair for her. “Let’s go take a walk.”
“Sure.”
He held the door for her, but instead of taking her to the car, he led her across the street. There was a festival going on near the riverfront about a half a block away.
“Can you walk in those things?” he asked, directing his gaze toward her heels.
She grinned. “Of course.”
“I think I should hold your hand.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Why?”
“First, because I’m afraid you’re going to trip and fall. And second, if this was a real date, that’s what I’d do.”
“All right.”
There were tents set up with beer and food, a live band up on a stage as well as crafts and all forms of entertainment. It was lively and the area was packed with people enjoying the festival.
Savannah was definitely overdressed, but she didn’t care. She loved watching the people mingle. The band was playing some very loud rock music, and the crowd was electrified.
Cole held tight to her hand as they strolled among the vendors hawking pottery, jewelry, artwork, and the like. Savannah enjoyed fairs like this, loved to stop at each tent to see what they were selling.
“Is this what you’d really do if you were out on a date?” she asked as they stopped to buy a drink from one of the food carts.
“Sure it is.”
She took a drink of the lemonade. It was tart and sweet. Absolutely perfect on a hot night. “Somehow I can’t see you doing a riverfront fair.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem your type of fun thing to do.”
“You don’t know me all that well, Peaches.”
He was right about that. She only knew him on paper. “That’s what this exercise is all about. Getting to know you better so I can clear up any misconceptions I might have about you.”
“Yeah, well, it seems like you have a lot of them.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “Do I?”
“Obviously. You thought all I liked to do was hang out in nightclubs and have orgies with women.”
She gasped. “Now how could you possibly make that kind of generalization?”
“I don’t know. How could you?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, Cole, for a man you’re awfully sensitive.”
“And you’re a typical woman who judges on first impression.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not easily insulted,” she said with a laugh. “And if this is how you talk to the women you date, it’s no wonder you frequent the clubs.”
“What does that mean?”
She caught the frown and the way his body straightened as he tensed.
“It means in a club atmosphere it’s mostly groups. It wouldn’t be a one-on-one type of situation, so you don’t have to get close to anyone. The so-called date we had tonight was quieter, more time for one-on-one conversation, which allows a woman to ask probing questions, to become more intimately familiar with you.”
“And you’re saying I don’t want that?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Hey, I like intimately familiar.”
“I’m not talking about sex.”
“Neither was I.”
Her lips curved. “Liar. You were, too.”
“Okay, maybe I was.”
They walked across the street to his car. She climbed in and he started the engine.
“So what would be your next move—if this were an actual date?” she asked.
He was silent as he pulled onto the highway and headed west. “I’d take the woman home.”
He did just that, and walked Savannah to her door. She took her keys out of her purse and was about to tell Cole good night.
“And if this were a real date, this is where I’d go in for the kiss.”
Before she could object, he had his arms around her, tugging her close, his mouth coming down on hers.
It wasn’t a forceful, demanding kiss. Instead, he brushed his lips across hers.
Shocked, all she could do was hold on to his arms. She opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside. Warm pleasure spread throughout her body, wrapping her in a foggy sensation of want and need.
For a minute she forgot all about the purpose of this night. Instead, all she thought about was the way Cole held her, the way he lazily stroked her back when he kissed her. Up close, he smelled like everything she loved about a man—crisp, clean, and sensual. She lost herself in the way his lips moved over hers, the magical way his hands cupped the back of her head and tangled in her hair when he deepened the kiss. And when he pressed her against the door, his body aligning with hers, lord have mercy but she thrilled to the feel of him, all hard angles and planes.
All hard. All over, especially between his legs, where he rocked against her sex, making her wet and quivery.
She’d invite him inside, where he’d pull the zipper down on her dress and fill his hands with her breasts. She could already imagine his mouth on her nipples, his hand inside her panties, coaxing her to the orgasm she so desperately needed.
She whimpered.
“Invite me in, Peaches,” he whispered against her lips.
And then reality set in, and she remembered she wasn’t on an actual date with Cole.
He wasn’t hers to do with as she pleased. And she certainly didn’t belong to him.
She splayed her hands on his chest and gave him slight pressure.
He took a step back.
She swallowed, her body, her senses, still filled with him. She fought for breath, willed her rapidly beating heart to slow down while she made eye contact with Cole and silently begged for understanding.
He straightened, then his lips curved in a hint of a smug smile.
“And that’s what I’d do with a woman I was out on a date with, Peaches. Except it wouldn’t end there.”
He turned and got into his car, started up the engine, and pulled away.
Savannah opened the door, the cold of the air-conditioning inside doing nothing to quell the blast of heat burning inside her body.
No, it definitely wouldn’t have ended here.
Not if they’d been on a real date.
Not if he really belonged to her.
SEVEN
COLE HAD A WORKOUT AT THE TEAM TRAINING FACILITY the next day. It was his first time being with the entire team, to see how the offense would mesh together.
It was mainly drills today and working with the conditioning coaches. There’d be no formations, unfortunately. He was eager to get in a line and take a pass from Cassidy, show the Traders what he was capable of.
This was going to be the year he’d become a star. He was home now and this was the right team. It might not be game time yet, but something was gelling for him. There was a renewed sense of fire in his gut that he hadn’t felt since he was a rookie. And if he had to grind his cleats over all the other wide receivers to show the team how good he was, that’s what he’d do.
He’d noticed Liz and Savannah on the sidelines watching the drills, decided to ignore them both while he worked out with the coaches. No distractions today, not when he was focused on work. He tuned them out until four hours later when he was drenched in sweat and every muscle in his body screamed in pain from the nonstop drills and sprints they’d put him through.
“You’re done,” the trainer said to the wide receivers. “Hit the showers.”
Thank god. He pulled off his helmet and walked to the sideline for a drink.
“You’re huffing and puffing like an old man,” Liz said, leaning her hip against the drink table. “Too tough for you out there?”
He downed the drink in two gulps, then tossed the cup in the trash and grinned at her. “Nope. Just the way I like it.”
He shifted his gaze to Savannah. “What are you doing here?”
“Observing.”
“Did I pass or fail?”
“You didn’t punch any of the coaches or any of the other players, so I’d call it a good day.”
He laughed. “Come on. I’m not that bad, Peaches.”
“Aren’t you? I’ve read your file. You’re not exactly known for playing well with others.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Then we’ll take you to lunch,” Liz said.
He shrugged. “Fine with me.”
He showered off the grime and pieces of turf, changed clothes, and met Savannah and Liz in the parking lot. He wasn’t sure, but this felt a little like some kind of intervention. “You’re not both here to gang up on me, are you?”
Liz linked her arm in his. “Afraid of two small women?”
“Normal women? No. You two? Yes.”
Liz gave him a diabolical laugh. “Good. You should be wary of us. We’ve been plotting.”
He shifted his gaze to Savannah, who cast an innocent look his way.
Bullshit. He wasn’t buying it.
“Christ.” He raked his hand through his damp hair. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
They drove to a restaurant. It was past lunch hour, but too early for dinner. Still, he was starving so he was glad the place was open. He was in the mood for a giant burger, which he ordered as soon as the waiter showed up to take their drink order.
Liz grabbed the bread basket, then pushed it aside. “No. Wedding. Must fit into my dress.”
Savannah gave her a smile. “Just one piece?”
“Don’t enable me. I’m resisting carbs until after the wedding. After that I’m going to devour an entire loaf of French bread. Possibly an entire bakery of bread. Poor Gavin. He might have to take me to a bakery on our wedding night.”
Savannah laughed. “You’re a stronger woman than I am. I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
Cole frowned. “Why can’t you have the bread?”
“You’re such a guy. You don’t understand. My dress fits me. I mean really fits me. I have to watch everything I eat right now.”
He shook his head. “Women.”
“It’s only a few days,” Liz said, then turned to Savannah. “I’m dreaming of bread and pasta, though.”
“I would be, too,” Savannah said with a sigh. Then reached for the bread. “Sorry.”
“Bitch. I hate you. I’m going to watch you eat every bite.”
Women were odd creatures. He wasn’t even going to try to figure that out. Instead, he ate his salad, glad to be eating something and ignorant of the female species.
“So let’s talk media interviews,” Savannah said after they’d all filled their stomachs.
Content after the giant hamburger he’d devoured, Cole pushed his empty plate to the side and took a drink of iced tea. “What media interviews?”
“One of the local news stations wants to do a piece on your coming to the Traders for their ten o’clock sports cast.”
He looked at Savannah, then shook his head. “Me and the media don’t mesh.”
“They’re going to have to,” Liz said. “You can’t avoid PR forever just because a few guys with cameras have pissed you off in the past.”
“This is true,” Savannah added. “The whole purpose of me working with you is to get you media ready. You’re going to have to do interviews.”
He leaned back in the chair. “The media makes up shit about me. They’re going to go into this with preconceived notions about me. You know they’re going to bring up everything that’s happened in the past.”
Savannah nodded. “That could be. I’ll coach you on how to handle those questions, downplay the negative and accentuate all the positive aspects of you being with the Traders this year.”
“This doesn’t sound like a good idea.” He’d never volunteered for media interviews. Not since they started going south on him.
“It’s necessary,” Liz said. “The sooner you get started working with the media and turning your image around, the better it will be for you.”
