Page 9 of Tempting the Player
He finally,freaking finally, looks at me. The beer still dangles from his fingertips, and his hazel eyes and sharp features take my breath away. “Sort of.”
“Sort of. What does that mean?”
A few seconds pass with us locked in a stare-off before he answers. “Yes, technically I am new, but I grew up here.”
“You left to go to college and then transferred back?”
“Do you always ask strangers in bars so many questions?” There’s the tiniest hint of a smile to tell me that he isn’t completely annoyed by me.
“Sometimes,” I answer honestly. “What college did you go to before?”
“University of Washington.” He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a long drink. I’m fascinated with the way his throat works as he swallows.
“That’s cool. What’s your major? What year are you?” I’m aware I’m coming on strong, but I cannot seem to stop.
“I’m undecided.” With a quick head tilt toward the door, he says, “Those guys were idiots. Are you okay?”
“Oh. Yeah. They were just messing around.” The memory of his strong hands pulling me down off the bar makes my skin tingle, but I’m horrified that he saw me like that.
He nods slowly. Neither of us says anything, but we continue to stare. He glances away first, giving his head a shake like he didn’t realize what he was doing.
“So, Washington. Why’d you decide to come back?”
“It was time.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He huffs out a soft laugh that turns his serious expression into a small smile. “My family is still here, and they needed me. Any more questions?” he asks, the smile growing a little larger.
I thought he was handsome all broody and tough, but when his features soften, he’s downright gorgeous. “So many. What are you leaning toward as a major? No wait, let me guess. I’m good at guessing majors. I’m a music major. You seem like a sports medicine guy. Maybe business or finance.”
Tilting my head to the side, I try to picture him behind a desk in a crisp suit. My mind quickly takes off in that direction, fantasizing a dozen different sexy scenarios that I’m pretty sure only happen in movies.
“I’ll keep those in mind.” He tosses me another small smile in response, then stands and pulls his wallet out from his back jean pocket. He fishes for some cash and sets it on the bar. “See you around, Jane.”
“Wait.” I hop off the chair and take two steps after him. “You know my name, but I still don’t know yours.”
He hesitates, but finally says, “Hendrick.”
As I close another foot of distance between us, I extend my hand and try his name out in my head.Hendrick.
That whisper of a smile is back as he reaches out and his much larger hand engulfs mine. Goosebumps climb up my arm and my pulse races.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hendrick.”
4
HENDRICK
“Has anyone seen my basketball shoes?”Flynn’s reddish-brown hair is still damp and sticks up all over his head. With his backpack slung over one shoulder and Pop-Tart in hand, he walks around searching for them.
Knox sighs impatiently at the open front door. “We gotta go. I’m gonna be late.”
“I think I have an old pair you can borrow for today. Bottom of my closet on the right side,” Archer says from the kitchen where he and Brogan are dumping scoops of protein into big plastic cups.
Flynn disappears into Arch’s bedroom and returns a few seconds later with the borrowed shoes in hand. Knox is already heading toward his car parked in the driveway.
“Do you need a ride home after practice?” I ask before my youngest brother can jet out the door.
