Page 28 of The Silent Count
When I open my eyes, Fortune is already sitting back in the chair across from my desk.
I am a professional; I repeat to myself, while I try to gain my composure and redirect back to the meeting’s agenda.
“When are you going to let me take you on a date?”
Fuck. I am not a professional.
My breath catches in my throat, but I try to play it off by tipping my head to the side in confusion. Fortune matches my stance, although his expression isn’t confused. It screamsyou know exactly what I just said… don’t play dumb. It’s times like this that I hate how well he can see through me. People rarely do, and I find it disruptive to my self-examination.
“Right after we find out dogs can survive in space.”
“I’m pretty sure that happened decades ago… decades before we were even alive.”
“I know.” I pull back my shoulders and a wry smile crawls over my lips. “Such a shame we missed our chance, isn’t it?”
Fortune crosses his arms over his chest, and the way his brows furrow tells me he isn’t as charmed by my joke as I am. Well, at least I’ve created somewhat of a segue for me to talk about why I called him in here in the first place.
“Actually, part of the reason I pulled you for a meeting was to talk about us. Or whatever this… thing—” I wave a hand between us, “Is that’s going on here.”
I draw my gaze over to the door, silently wishing I had asked him to shut it when he went back to sit down. This isn’t the type of conversation we should have with the door open, but considering the only people here are staff and my office is tucked away at the end of the hall away from everyone else, I take my chances. This conversation will be quick, anyway.
“Is that so?” Fortune hums.
“What’s that look for?”
“You said we had ‘serious business matters to discuss,’ and I’m trying to figure out what our ‘thing’”—He curls his fingers into air quotes—“Has to do with business.”
I narrow my eyes at him in response, which he follows up by lifting a shoulder with an overly amused smile.
He thinks he’s so smug calling me out like this, but the truth of the matter is that this does pertain to business. If he wants to keep his job, that is.
“Listen, I will not sit here and pretend like I’m not enjoying what’s happening between us. My issues, however, lie in the fact that we continuously keep putting ourselves in risky situations. It’s only a matter of time before someone catches us in the act.”
“Are you saying we should stop?”
Silence.
No, I don’t want to stop. But I can’t keep continuing what we’re doing—letting my feelings get involved—if this is only temporary for him.
“What if we wait until the end of the season? There’s only a few more games left.”
Eight.
There are eight games left until playoffs. Which means we’re stuck for at least another month and a half. I like to think that I can stay away from him for that long. Walking through the practice facility and pretending as if I don’t know what it feels like to have his tongue down my throat. I know staying away from each other is the best option for this to work out on our terms. So, we can go to my father together at the end of the season and beg for his forgiveness. Because I know damn well he won’t give us permission now.
Ifthat’s what Fortune wants to do.Ifhe sees us being long term.
“And what? We’re just going to keep casually fooling around until you get picked up by a team?”
“Lea…”
“Yes?”
“I want to make myself perfectly clear right now,” his tone is serious. I sit back and watch as he shifts in his seat, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. There’s a heat in his stare, but not the kind that’s made of lust. This one is burning with significance. I gulp under the weight of the pressure, waiting for him to finish. “You and I… we are anything but casual.”
I give him a blank stare. His words roll around in my mind, and the self-sabotaging side of my brain tries to contort the meaning behind them, but the sound of my heart hammering in my chest overpowers any deceptive thoughts.
“What are you saying? That you want to try to…”
