Page 100 of Changing Rules

“My track record when it comes to players—to athletes—isn’t all that great.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he says. His tone is quiet, genuine.

“It’s fine. Those experiences definitely made me stronger.”

He hums. “You’re incredible.”

Warmth blossoms in my chest. “Thank you.”

Meg stands, her eyes on me. It’s the interruption I need to have a moment to myself. This man is far too charming for my own good.

“I’m going to see if Meg needs help.”

“Sure.” He nods, his focus intent on me as I stand and follow Meg into the house.

“Do you need my help?” I ask as I step into the kitchen.

She chuckles, a sly smile spreading across her face. “What do you think about Josh?”

“He’s nice.” With a shrug, I steal a cherry from the pie on the table and pop it into my mouth. “I’m mingling, like you told me to.”

“The poor guy can’t look away from you.” Head lolling back, she laughs.

My cheeks burn. I avert my gaze and reach for another cherry, but she slaps my hand away.

“Hey!” I pout.

“Hey,” she mimics, moving the pie away from me. “You’re ruining the presentation.”

“I am not.” I dart around her and snatch another cherry before she can stop me. With a satisfied grin, I put it in my mouth. “Delicious.”

“You’re acting like a little kid,” she huffs, though she’s smiling.

“Or maybe you’ve forgotten how to relax.”

She shakes her head, her eyes dancing. “New York was definitely good for you, Izzy.”

Marco steps into the kitchen, eyes darting around nervously.

Meg frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He plasters on a fake-as-hell smile. “I came to grab another plate.”

“Why do you need another plate?” She puts her hands on her hips.

Marco’s strange behavior instantly sets me on edge, and uneasiness rolls through me.

“We have a latecomer.” He saunters to the cupboard, turning his back to us.

“You didn’t,” Meg hisses through clenched teeth.

“I thought it was a good idea.” Marco clears his throat, and when he turns around, he’s holding his head high. “He’s one of my closest friends.”

She gives her head a slow shake. “Izzy, I’m so sorry. If you want to leave, I totally understand.”

I sigh, mentally bracing myself for the confrontation I worried was inevitable.

Really, this is good. We’re not in public, but we’re not alone either. And though I was just now made aware of what’s about to happen, it’s better than being caught totally off guard.

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