Page 33 of Wildcat
“The form?” His brows pull together, and I’d almost believe he was innocent if it weren’t for the smile that doesn’t falter.
He sits on a nearby bench and wipes a towel over his chest. Several players are back here. A few in the ice baths, others on massage tables. Ash lifts his head from where he lies on his stomach while a pretty brunette massages his back. He smiles when he sees me talking to his friend.
I have an irrational flare of jealousy, wondering if Leo gets massaged by her. I don’t want him, but the idea someone else touches him makes me want to scream. That’s totally normal and rational behavior, right?
“The form you filled out yesterday when you came to my office.”
“I left it in your office.”
“Then how come I can’t find it?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Couldn’t say. How was your coffee this morning?”
I wish I hadn’t drank it now. No, that’s a lie. It was delicious. “I poured it down the drain.”
He grins like he knows I’d never do that.
“The form, Leo. I need your form.”
“What are you doing for lunch?”
“Lunch?” Exasperation makes me snap at him.
“Yeah, that meal in the middle of the day. I have a break then so maybe we could meet up, I’ll buy you lunch and fill out the form you misplaced.”
“Or I could bring you another right now.”
He stands and takes a step into my space. I tilt my head up to keep my glare locked on his. His eyes drop to my red lips.
“Can’t,” he says, then lifts his gaze. “Busy until lunch. Twelve-thirty okay?”
He brushes past me, taking his amazing body and the smell of ice and fire with him. “I’ll swing by your office to pick you up.”
At twelve-thirty,I’m ready to go. I have two forms in my hand when he appears in the doorway. Athletic pants and a T-shirt shouldn’t look so good. The ends of his hair are damp and the smell of his soap is divine.
I slap the blank form down on the desk.
“Bring it with us. I’ll sign it after I eat. I’m starving,” he says and motions for me to come closer.
Rolling my eyes, I hold the other up in the air. “I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of filling out one on your behalf.”
He takes it from me, laughing as he reads it. “Under food allergies, you put all.”
“Can’t be too careful.” I take it back. “This is what I’m sending if you don’t fill out this form by the end of lunch. You’ll be eating cardboard all season.”
“Fine,” he says. “Let me feed you first. All that wit and charm you’re hitting me with must be exhausting.”
I assume we’re going to the cafeteria upstairs, but he exits out the back of the building and starts toward his car in the parking lot.
“I’m not getting in that thing.” My steps falter.
“Thatthing?”
“Your car.” My cheeks warm. The last time I was in it, he had one big hand on my thigh the entire drive and the promise of sex hung around us so thick I was drunk on it.
“I promise to return you in one piece.” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Fine.” I get in the car, ignoring how having his scent surrounding me makes my breaths come in quick shallow gulps. “But I need to be back in forty-five minutes.”
