“You and Slade don’t get along?”
Her head whips in my direction. “What? No, I love Jonah. He’s a great guy and he saved Raven’s life.”
I heard all about what happened last September in the mountains. Both Jonah and Raven are lucky to be alive.
Eve is quiet. Thoughtful. Her gaze slides to her window. “I just miss her.”
“She the first of your friends to get married?”
“Ha. More like my only friend.”
“So you have all your other single friends to hang out with.”
She turns to me, her face serious. “Not my only friend to get married, she’s my only friend, period.”
I don’t believe that shit for a second. Eve’s funny, sweet when she’s not yelling fuck in my face and swinging a baseball bat, and, hell, even then I’d say she’s pretty damn cute. “Raven’s your only friend?”
She nods and ducks to hide beneath a thick panel of blond hair. “Never needed more than her.”
Why do I sense that should be followed up with until now? I keep my mouth shut and figure our relationship, whatever it is, doesn’t dictate that we know the deep intimate details of our lives.
Once inside the diner that looks like something out of a malt shop in the 50s, we’re seated at a small booth in the back. The scents of bacon grease and strong coffee fill my senses. Pressed for time, we take a quick peek at the menu and order.
The waitress brings our coffee, and at the first sip, it’s like liquid coal down the back of my throat.
Eve rips open a half a dozen sugar packs and pours in creamer until her cup is almost overflowing. After her first sip, she smacks her lips together and grins. “Not bad.”
I chuckle and watch her take another sip.
“Raven and I know a place in town that serves the best coffee. They get the beans raw and then roast them on Sundays in this big roaster thingy; anyway, it’s the best coffee in Vegas. I’ll take you there next time . . .” Her eyes get round and her cheeks flush. “Um . . . not that I expect there to be a next time, or whatever, but . . .” She gives up and dips her chin to hide behind her coffee cup and bangs.
Next time. Yeah, I want more of Eve. But I’m not sure what goes on between us needs to be made public. There’s the age difference, the fact that my heavyweight champion doesn’t approve, and the icing on the shit cake is the media. I get photographed out with Eve, and she becomes fair game for the paparazzi. It’s not an impossible obstacle for committed couples, but that’s not the path we’re on.
“Eve, I need to ask you to do me a favor.”
“Okay.” Her eyebrows drop low over her questioning eyes.
“Whatever’s going on between us has been great.” I tilt my head and try to get a read on her expression, but she’s giving nothing away. “I’d like to do it again sometime.” All right, probably not the most romantic proposition, but at least it’s out there.
Her expression is blank. Did she not hear me? Shit. Maybe I should’ve planned that a little better.
*
Eve
He wants to do it again? My stomach growls, so I know I’m not dreaming. He said again.
I give myself a mental slap. Must not get my hopes up.
“Okay, is that your favor?” Sex as a favor. I can do that. A sexual favor. My heart drops into my stomach. Oh no, I am his slut.
He runs his long, powerful arm over the back of the booth, showcasing his enormous biceps. “No, but it’s probably in our best interest if we don’t let Jonah and Raven know what we’ve been up to.” He takes a long pull from his coffee.
My heart sinks lower. “What exactly have we been up to?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You know what we’ve been up to.”
One-night stands and booty calls. The heat of shame flares at my neck and chest. “Oh.”
He wants to keep our sexual escapades a secret. My stomach feels full regardless of how hungry I am. Vince wanted to keep us a secret too. I bought all his lies about why our relationship needed to stay private, but the truth was completely different and almost got us killed.
No one keeps secrets unless they have something to hide, and he wants to hide me. He’s ashamed. Or maybe he has a girlfriend. I mean, if I’m going to have to pretend that we barely know each other when Jonah and Raven are around, then I deserve an explanation.
I stir my coffee, unable to look him in the eye. “Mind me asking why?”
He blows out a long breath. “Jonah and Owen didn’t seem too pleased with my taking you home the other night.”
“So you’re afraid of Jonah?”
He glares. “Fuck no. I’m not afraid of Jonah. But I’m trying to get the UFL back on two working legs. I can’t afford any drama in my business right now.” He takes another gulp of coffee.
His job. Even though my chest pinches at his reasoning, I guess it makes sense. After all, I’m just a piece of ass to him, someone he can screw and buy breakfast for. The UFL is his life, and a lot of people rely on him.