Page 25 of Filthy Player

“Talk.”

I was starting to really like Beaux. For the last week, we’d talked almost every night. Some times we just talked about his practice or what my day had been like at the garage. But he’d made an effort to connect with me in some small way daily, and I was totally falling for him.

He consistently showed me he wasn’t the jerk he’d been the first night at Ride’Em Rough.

But how many times could I cancel on him, when the amount of time we could see each other was already so minimal, before he walked away, too?

I desperately needed someone to help me unravel the mess in my head.

“You have to promise me not to freak out,” I said, making my voice as stern as possible. “And I mean it. No getting stars in your eyes. No excitement. Nothing.”

“Okay,” she drawled. Darn. Her eyes were already twinkling.

“I had a date last week and it went well.”

“You did?”

I pointed a finger at her. “I said no excitement. No freak outs.”

“Right.” She nodded enthusiastically, not even trying to hide her smile. “No excitement.”

I shook my head. It was pointless. “Okay, so Beaux came to the garage last week—”

She jolted back. “Beaux? Beaux Hale? Are you serious?”

“I’m warning you—”

“I know,” she said and held up her hand. Her eyes stopped twinkling and narrowed. “Tell me everything.”

I told her about Beaux coming to the garage, the gifts he gave my dad, four of the team members showing up with him, and then dinner and drinks. I told her about everything but the kiss.

Some things were just for me.

By the time I was almost done, her brows had almost disappeared into her hairline, her eyes barely in her sockets, and her jaw almost touching the floor.

“You’re dating Beaux?” She shook her head like she couldn’t believe it.

“I wouldn’t say dating, Hannah.” I shrugged. I didn’t even know what we were. He was making it clear he was interested. I definitely was. Time together was a barrier I didn’t know how to conquer. “We only went to dinner once.”

“So why you’d come in to work if you wanted to see him? If Beaux wanted to date me or spend time with me, or whatever” —she flicked out her hand —“I’d do everything I could to be with him.”

“Because I have a mountain of bills to pay.”

“But it’s Beaux.” Her voice took on a wispy tone. She didn’t understand.

Frustration spiked in my veins. “And before Beaux there was Spencer. And John and Colton. All of them left when I couldn’t give the time they wanted, Hannah. I have other responsibilities, and my dad will always come first.”

Damn it. My nose stung and the back of my throat burned. Thinking of all the rejection I faced was humiliating.

I shouldn’t have started something with Beaux.

“Maybe Beaux will be different,” she said, and she still had that wistful expression on her face. “I mean, he seems like such a great guy.”

“He is,” I said.

He was.

He was playful and funny. He made me laugh until my stomach hurt. He was fiercely protective of Shannon and hilariously ridiculous in the way he made vomit sounds every time he talked about Shannon and Oliver Powell. He was also intense when he talked about football, totally focused. And he never failed to ask about my dad or Mike. “But you know, I always thought Spencer was a great guy too, the best, and look how that turned out.”

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