Page 37 of Stick Fight

His grin is pure mischief. “Ooh, an interrogation. Does it involve a strip search?” I laugh, loving this man’s playfulness.

“No,” I shoot back.

“Fine,” he grumps, wagging his brows. “But here’s the answer anyway.” His gaze darkens as I step even closer. “I like it because…” His hand slides up my leg, slow and sure. “It gives me easy access.”

A hard shiver goes through me. But then his gaze sweeps over me again, thoughtful this time. With a flicker of worry lacing his voice he says, “I think we can pull this off.”

Is he trying to convince himself?

“I’m sure we can,” I reassure him. “No one is going to recognize me in this. Not even…” As I let my words fall off, his face tightens, a fast breath expanding his chest.

“What?”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, his eyes locking with mine. “I saw him.”

He doesn’t need to saywhohe saw. I can hear the disdain in his tone.

“How did you know?”

“You said his name last night and when we were at lunch, some girls getting autographs noticed him and ran over to meet him.”

I look down, my heart suddenly in my throat as tears threaten. Roman stands and pulls me to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I mentioned that. Maybe just to let you know I think he’s still searching for you.”

I suck in a sharp breath, a knot tightening in my chest. Were words exchanged? Did he do something that he can only regret later. “Did you say anything to him?”

His jaw hardens. “I wanted to, with my fist.”

“Roman,” I breathe out my heart racing.

“Don’t worry. Rip stopped me.”

“Rip knows who he is too, then.”

“I started toward him. Rip clearly put two and two together. I didn’t come right out and tell him what happened, Gabs. He also knows it’s you. He caught a glimpse of you last night.” I stiffen, and he runs his hands up and down my arms. “He’s not going to say anything. He was actually very worried about you.”

“That’s kind of him.” Roman gaze shifts, like Rip said more than he’s letting on. “Roman?”

“You and me.” He waves his finger back and forth between the two of us. “This is just…ah…”

“A friend helping a friend,” I say, clearly putting two and two together as well. I cock my head and offer, “Not revenge, but a rebound with benefits?”

He laughs. “Perfect.” He seems pleased with that response, pleased to know that I don’t think this is anything more than that. And I don’t. “Let’s sit.” He pulls me onto the sofa, and hands me a throw pillow to get comfortable. “I don’t have a lot of time before I have to get dressed and head down. But before I leave, how about a cup of coffee and we finish the movie from last night?”

“Oh God.” I briefly close my eyes, practically vibrating at the thoughts of caffeine. “Yes. Please.”

“Jesus, can you not.”

I laugh realizing how sexual that sounded.

He shakes his head at me, amused. “Get changed. I’ll make us some coffee and we can finish what we started.” His shoulders stiffen as he sucks in air. “The movie, I mean.”

I’m not the only one stumbling over my words today.

“Roman?” I ask, my gaze on his perfectly tight backside when he heads toward the coffee maker.

He glances at me over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Back in Boston.” I frown and take the wig off. “Your friends. Your fellow players. What are we going to tell them?”

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