Page 13 of Undisputed Player
It was like being doused in ice water while simultaneously being set on fire.
What the actual fuck?
"He knows EVERYTHING about velociraptors," Avery interjected, bouncing on her toes. "And T-Rexes and triceratops and?—"
"Brachiosaurus," Leo added quietly, a tiny smile playing at his mouth.
The kid was cute, I'd give him that. Reminded me of myself at that age, if I'd been quiet and bookish instead of charming everyone within a five-mile radius.
Avery was still talking, but I barely heard her. All I could focus on was Estelle, the way she moved, the careful way she spoke, and the protective hover of her hand near Leo's shoulder.
She looked at me like I was just another problem to solve, another rich asshole with nothing real to offer.
She finished gathering Leo's things, her focus never wavering from the task at hand, and I realized I was still watching her like a starving man at a feast.
I tried to recover, to flash her another smile, but she just nodded politely and turned away.
No invitation.
No lingering glance.
No hint of interest whatsoever.
I stood there, heart pounding like I'd just gone twelve rounds, feeling twelve kinds of foolish. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did I care? Why did I want her to look at me again, to see me, to acknowledge that I was different from every other man who'd probably tried to impress her?
Estelle guided Leo toward the door. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the graceful line of her neck, the curve of her back beneath the jacket, and the way she moved like someone trying not to disturb the air around her.
"Ms. Estelle,” I called, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
She paused, turning slightly, one eyebrow arched in question. The look was both challenging and dismissive, as if she'd already categorized me and found me unworthy of further consideration.
That eyebrow, that small gesture of skepticism, was sexier than any come-hither stare I'd ever received in VIP rooms and penthouse suites.
"Do you need help carrying anything?" I gestured vaguely at the classroom, aware of how lame the offer sounded even as the words left my mouth.
‘Do you need help carrying anything?'I sounded like a fucking loser.
The corner of her mouth quirked upward, not quite a smile, but close. For a split second, something flickered in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity for whatever the fuck was going on with me.
"I've got it, thanks," she answered, her tone polite but final. "Have a good weekend, Mr. Easton."
And then she was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of citrus and something indefinable that made me want to follow her like a fucking puppy.
I stood there, staring at the empty doorway, trying to process what had just happened. Or rather, what hadn't happened.
She hadn't flirted. Hadn't fallen to her knees. Hadn't given me that look women always gave me, the one that said they were already imagining how I looked naked.
She'd dismissed me.Me. Jax fucking Easton.
"Jax?" Avery tugged at my sleeve. "Can we go now? You promised ice cream and seeing Toffee.”
I blinked, forcing my attention back to my niece. Right. Ice cream. Normal uncle behavior. I could do that.
"Yeah, pumpkin. Let's go."
We walked to the car, and Avery chattered about her day, but my mind kept circling back to Estelle Moore. She was beautiful, yes, but not in the manufactured way I was accustomed to.
Her beauty was natural and devastating—sharp and soft at the same time, pulling me in like gravity.
