Page 6 of Filthy Player

“You were nice to her.”

“I want in her pants, dickface, I wasn’t going to be rude.”

A gasp hit me from behind the table and I cringed. Ah hell.

I turned and behind me was Paige. There was fury in her tired hazel eyes and a filled pitcher of ice water in her hand.

Then her hand lifted, and before I could move out of the way, it was dumped all over my head.

“Shit!” I ducked my head as ice fell down my shirt and all over my body.

“Never gonna happen, asshole.” She twirled and stomped away.

“Aww fuck!” I was damn cold, dripping in ice and cold water that ran down my face and beneath my shirt, landing in a pool on my lap.

Around us, the entire restaurant had gone dead silent.

All except for my teammates, who were laughing so hard some had tears running down their cheeks.

“Go suck a bag of dicks,” I said to all of them, shaking my hands in the faces of the men close enough to get wet.

Then I leaned over the table, shook my hair like a dog, splattering water all over the place and pushed back from the table.

I had my suit I had to wear earlier in my car. I hated wearing it, but at least it was dry.

“Mr. Hale, Mr. Hale, I’m so sorry. Please, let me help you.” An overweight man rushed toward me, white towels in his hand that couldn’t hide the jumping of his large gut. “Please excuse my server,” he said, shooting a glare in the direction where Paige had disappeared. “It appears we need more training.”

I grabbed a towel out of his hand and wiped my face. “No big deal,” I said. “Shit happens. Don’t worry about it.”

After what she heard me say, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it.

Hell, I even liked that she doused me. It showed she had guts and the ability to stand up for herself. My kind of woman.

“I’ll take care of this immediately,” he said, and by the look in his eyes, I knew how he was going to handle it.

“Honestly, man. It’s not a problem. No harm, no foul. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had an ice bath before.” I laughed it off, using the towel to dry my arms and then I took the rest of the towels from his hand and tossed them on the table.

“Can you help and get this table cleaned up?” I asked the guys. One would do it. We weren’t all entitled assholes like people wanted to believe. Rich yes, but not entitled. There wasn’t a player I’d met yet who wasn’t grateful for the opportunity to be playing ball for a living.

“You got it, Hale,” Quinten said.

I turned back to the guy I assumed was the manager and lifted my hands. “See? No problem. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get something dry on.”

“I’ll speak to your server about this while you’re gone.”

He hurried away before I could stop him.

My mom had lost more jobs than I could remember for reasons more minor than this.

Waitressing jobs were a dime and dozen, easy to find, easy to lose.

Damn.

I hurried out to my truck, shoved off my now soaking wet jeans and ripped off my shirt. Once re-dressed in the suit pants and dress shirt, I headed back inside.

I needed to find Paige and her manager before I owed her a hell of a lot more than an apology.

CHAPTER THREE

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