“That’s ridiculous,” she huffs.
I lull my head to the side and study her. Ashley has been my best friend since seventh grade.
We went through puberty together. First crushes. Asshole boyfriends. College and now first, real jobs. “You’ve got it easy. There’s only one dietician. There are scads of personal trainers, and most of them are men. I can’t afford to work less than everyone else.”
“I understand your reasoning but don’t overwork yourself. You’ll end up sick and having to miss work. That will not help your cause.” She shoves a strand of golden blonde hair behind her ear.
“I hear you.” I shove off the cushions and sit upright. “Did you and Anthony Timmerman’s wife become BFF’s or something?”
“Oh, God, yes.” She smiles and flops into the leather recliner. The furniture arrangement places us opposite of each other. She puts her petite legs onto the seat and rests her ass against her feet. “Jenna’s wonderful. Her best friend, Chloe Anderson, runs a bakery here in town.”
“I didn’t realize you went over to the dark side.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Hey, a girl has to have pastries now and then.” She waves her hand in the air like she’s dismissing anyone’s judgment of her.
“I’m teasing.”
She frowns, and the crease between her eyebrows deepens. “How did you hear about that?”
I flush. The cobwebs on the ceiling fan need to be cleaned. How long has it been?
If I don’t make eye contact with her, she won’t suspect anything. God, that’s stupid. Not making eye contact is what’s suspicious. I jerk my head down and meet her gaze. “I was speaking with Tony Timmerman and Gunner Sinclair tonight after practice.”
“Oh, yeah.” She bites her bottom lip and leans forward. “Gunner is one hot piece of ass.” She cocks her head and tips out her chin. “Do I sense a spark?”
“Stop it.” I grab a green throw pillow and toss it at her face, she squeals and bats it away. Ashley is anything but athletic.
She grins wickedly. “I guess that’s my answer. Did he feel a snap, crackle, pop, too?”
I frown and roll my eyes. “No.” Which is too damn bad. Gunner is the first guy that has interested me in months.
Unfortunately, I’m the only one feeling a connection. When Tony mentioned we should get together, Gunner practically gnawed his arm off to get away. And considering how essential his throwing arm is to his career, that’s saying something.
“Oh.” She sags into her seat and rocks back and forth. “That’s too bad. He’s one good looking guy.”
“Maybe he’d be interested in you.” My stomach dives to my feet. The last thing I want to see is Gunner and Ashley making out in my living room, but hell she’s prattling on about him. Who am I to pussy block?
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “I’m not interested in him. He’s cute and all, but I’m…”
When her voice drifts off, my attention is drawn to the pronounced silence. “Who?”
“Who, what?” A tinge of pink rises along the length of her neck and over her cheeks.
“You’re being evasive.”
“It’s nothing.” She shrugs, and her eyes fill with sadness. “I can’t see him.”
“Why?” I frown. “He’s not married, is he?”
Her eyes widen, and she gives me a look like I’ve insulted her intelligence. “Bitch, do I look like a homewrecker?”
“No. I’m sorry. You were just being weird about it. If you like a guy, why can’t you see him?”
“It’s complicated.” She cocks her head and studies me. “Does your contract say you can’t date a player?”
“No.”
“I see.” She shoves out of her seat.