Page 40 of The Fantasy League
Just as he drove out of sight, Lea’s white sports car sped down the street and whipped into the driveway with music blaring so loudly her car shook.
Cutting the engine, she stepped out of the car with perfectly blown-out hair and makeup that appeared untouched. For someone who’d just spent twelve hours working to spin the narrative of a player punching a multimillion-dollar sponsor, she looked regal.
“I didn’t know if you had wine so I brought my own,” she shouted over to us, opening the door to the back seat of her car and pulling out an entire crate of wine.
“Bad day?” Mae questioned with a faint laugh.
“Don’t even get me started.” Lea rolled her eyes and breezed past us, inviting herself into the house.
She set the crate of wine down on the kitchen island and I grabbed the wine opener and three clear glasses from the cabinet.
Grabbing one of the bottles of cabernet sauvignon from the crate, I opened it and began pouring the bloodred liquid into one of the glasses. Just as I finished pouring, Lea grabbed the glass by the stem and knocked it back like she was taking a shot.
Mae and I looked over at each other with widened eyes. “Soooo,Scar was just about to tell me all about herlovefor Abel,” she deflected with an evil smile as I handed a glass over to her.
She was lucky I didn’t spill it on the front of her shirt.
“Ooh, do tell.” Lea waggled her eyebrows while pouring herself another glass of wine and filling it to the brim.
“Not much to tell.” I shrugged. “We just started seeing each other so it’s not that serious yet.”
“Your picture on Page Six said otherwise…” Lea shot Mae a knowing wink.
I lifted my shoulders again.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
* * *
After a few hoursof comparing meaningless celebrity gossip,Mae and Lea both fell asleep on the couch.
Once I knew they were both thoroughly knocked out, I slipped into the kitchen and plated some of the leftovers before tiptoeing down the hall and sneaking quietly out the front door.
With two plates in hand, I jogged across the street, heading straight for Abel’s front door.
It wasn’t until I was standing on his porch that I realized that what I was doing was pathetic.
Completely utterly abysmally pathetic.
Making a desperate attempt to see Abel outside of work and our “arrangements”? Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.
Sure, I could’ve brought him leftovers in the morning to say thanks like any rational person would do. But no. I was standing on his doorstep because Iwantedto see him. Granted, a large part of me wanting to see him after “business hours” was because I’d always been curious to find out what he did whenever I wasn’t around.
The guy hardly ever left his house if it wasn’t work related and I’d only seen one of his buddies over at his house before—that one guy who eyed Lea all night at the charity gala. What was his name again… Fashion? Forbes? Something with anF.
Stopping on his front porch, I released a steadying breath before rapping my knuckles against the black door. I silently prayed that it was loud enough for him to hear from wherever he was in his house. In retrospect, I probably should’ve used the doorbell, but I was too busy internally reprimanding myself to realize my error.
A few seconds of waiting felt like an eternity when nerves were pooling in the pit of your stomach. A sigh of relief left me when the door finally swung open and my eyes were met with Abel wearing gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt that molded against his every muscle.
My mouth watered at the sight of him looking sleepy and relaxed.
I couldn’t even deny my attraction toward him anymore. It was becoming too exhausting to fight it.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek.
“No, I was just watching a movie. Want to come in?”
“Sure. I brought you pasta primavera and key lime pie.” I held up the plates as I stepped through the threshold to his home like I had hundreds of times before, but this time it felt different.
