Page 57 of Playing the Field
“Good.”
I stand frozen on the corner, debating whether to ruin the moment. “But what about work? Dating you goes against company policy.”
He frowns. “Are you sure? Does it apply to players or just corporate execs?”
“Ha. Not specified. But players are probably even worse than corporate types. I’m running player data and making recruiting suggestions. It’s more of a conflict of interest than, like, dating someone in the PR department.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“Even worse, I advocated for keeping you on the team. I’d look super biased.”
“But that was before you even knew me.”
“True. But people think what they think.”
“Okay, then. We can call it off or try things out and keepeverything under wraps, see how we feel.”
I know what the right decision is—the clean, clear decision that’s best for my career.
And I know what my heart wants. I’ve let it make decisions for me in the past, and it hasn’t worked out, but it’s begging me to trust it one last time. I have a good feeling about Hunter.
At the end of the day, instincts beat out data as the deciding factor.
Otherwise, we’re not human.
“I don’t want to call it off. I want to try. But please, promise me you’ll tread lightly here. I’ll go to my bosses if the time is right.”
He kisses my temple. “I promise.”
Interlacing our fingers, Hunter starts walking again, making sure he’s on the outside so I’m out of the way of cars. Bogie seems glad to be on the move again, trotting in front of us with his nose to the ground, on the scent of the next squirrel or leftover hamburger wrapper.
We’ve almost reached the bottom of the hill, and I look up at the steep climb ahead of us to get back to the house. “That doesn’t look too fun. I’m gonna be slow, just warning you.”
“Tell you what. Let’s get a couple of smoothies and give Bogie a chance to slurp some water, and then we can get a ride back to the house. Pick up where we left off on the corner.” His eyebrows bounce behind his sunglasses.
“That all sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER 29
Hunter
Beingwith Gracie now already feels different.
The next fifteen minutes are an exercise in self-control.
Sitting across a table for two on the front patio of a Kreation Juice place on Franklin, I have a perfect excuse to stare at Gracie for as long as I want.
But what I want to do is anything but stare.
I’m already calculating that we’ll grab a rideshare to ferry us up the hill so I can get her into my bed with minimal detours. And so help me, if Kyler is home and feeling like a long chat, I might throw him off his own balcony.
Bogie laps up water from the collapsible bowl from his hiking harness and seems content in the table’s shade. I’m antsy, drumming my fingers while we wait for our car to arrive.
“I don’t mind walking. It’s only, what, fifteen minutes?” Gracie asks, seeming as eager as I am to get back to the house.
“All uphill, but I’m game if you are.”
She chews on her lip, debating. “When’s the car supposed to come?”
