Page 46 of Text Me Baby One More Time

She grabs a vase from one of the cabinets on the island and begins filling it with water. “What kind of flower is it?”

“Alstroemeria. It symbolizes friendship.”

She glances at me over her shoulder, brows lifted high. “Friendship? Is that what this is?”

“I hope it can be.”

“I-I…I don’t know, Shep.”

“We used to be really good at being friends, Den.”

Shutting off the water, she turns to me, drying her hands on the towel sitting on the countertop. She regards me with cautious eyes. “We were, but we messed that up and let feelings get involved.”

“We don’t have to let them this time.”

“Is that even possible?”

No.“Yes.”

She nods and lets out a shaky breath. “All right. Let’s do it then.Friends.” She tests the word out on her tongue like it’s a foreign language.

In many ways, it is—for us, at least.

We started out as friends, sure, but it wasn’t long before everything became…well, more.

I fell first, and hard.

But how could I not? She was smart and kind and funny. It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, too, and it didn’t matter that she was over two thousand miles away.

I fell. I was ready for us, for a future.

Until I lost my nerve and wrecked us.

“We can be…friends.”

There’s a spark of hope that flares to life inside me.

“I’d like that, Den.”

“Just try not to fall in love with me this time, Cap.”

* * *

I wasn’t preparedfor tonight at all.

Not for the media hounds peppering me with question after question and not for all the fake smiles I’d have to plaster on my face.

I most fucking definitely was not prepared for Denny.

God, the woman oozes charm and wit and pure sex. I’ve spent half the night with my cock straining against my dress slacks.

Thank god the lighting is low and everyone is too captivated by her to pay me any mind, or else they’d be getting one hell of a show.

“Clark, where did you find this girl? I think I’m in love,” says my teammate Joe, not giving a shit that his own date doesn’t care much for his admiration of mine.

My jaw ticks and I bring my champagne glass to my mouth, sipping at it so I don’t wring Joe’s neck. “Don’t you have a date for the night?”

He shrugs and leans in toward me so only I can hear. “She’s a boring lay. Been there, done that, not interested in going back. But seriously, man, if you’re not planning on keeping this broad around, I’ll gladly take her off your hands.”

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