“You look great, too, Ryan,” she says, taking me in.
She never said what this date entailed, so I’m just dressed in a pair of jeans, a white button up, and a half-zip sweater. I’ve got a more functional knee brace on under the jeans and Doc told me to start bearing weight, so I’m going without the crutches tonight.
She fumbles with the little clutch in her hands, pulling out a few cards and a lipstick from her other wallet and tucking them safely inside.
“So, what’s the plan?” I say, slipping my hands in my pockets.
“Hmm?” She keeps her eyes down, still rifling through her purse. “Oh, I have some ideas.” She glances up, flashing me another smile with those red-painted lips.
Okay, fuck her plans. I want to stay here. If I’m only getting this one night and this one date, I want to sit on the couch with her on my lap in that dress. I want to feel the way the soft tulle bunches in my hands as I pull it up, reaching under it to graze my fingers up her bare thigh, seeking out that heat between her legs—
“Is this the new contract?”
I blink, pulling my attention away from Tess’s ass and back to her face. She’s standing at the bar now, glancing over her shoulder at me, a packet of papers in hand. I refocus on the papers. “Oh…yeah, that’s it.”
She sets her clutch down on the bar and starts flipping through the first few pages. “Wow, I’ve never seen a professional sports contract before. This all seems pretty complicated. Have you taken a look at it yet?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Well, I have an agent to help with all the contract stuff, so…”
She turns back to the contract. “Agents are great, but it’s always good to read a contract for yourself just so you know all the particulars—”
“Hey, Lawyer Tess?” I tease, reaching over her to splay my hand across the page she’s reading. Our fingertips brush, and I feel her go still next to me. Fuck, standing this close to her I can smell her perfume. It mingles with the smell of her coconutty hair oil to make a fruity, floral bouquet. It’s like she’s a damn walking tropical paradise. My very own Sex on the Beach.
“Hmm?” She turns slightly to glance up at me.
I push on the contract and she lets me lower it to the bar. “I was promised a date with Tess Owens. I’d prefer we not spend it pouring over contracts.”
She purses those red lips at me. “Some might consider it foreplay.”
“What, are you gonna read aloud my bonus payout schedule line by line so we can both get hard over how much money will be pouring into my account?”
“Mhmm,” she says, the sound a hum in her throat. “A quarter million upon signing. Five hundred thousand will transfer on March first…”
Fuck, how is that actually working? Am I getting hard right now? Her eyes narrow like a sexy feline, and I know she knows. “Oh, fuck you,” I say with a laugh that morphs into a groan as I drag my hand down over my face. “You’re a goddamn she-devil.”
She laughs too. “You are too easy.”
“And you’re too cruel,” I tease back.
Somehow, I know the moment I’ve said the words that they were the wrong words. Something stutters behind those pretty hazel eyes. It’s like a broken TV with static as I see things I know she doesn’t want me to see—fear, anger, sadness, frustration. I blink and she’s back to smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Let’s go, handsome,” she says, ignoring the contract as she snaps her clutch shut. “I’m driving.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m seated across from Tess at a small, candlelit table in a busy fish camp restaurant. Tess ordered a glass of rosé, and I ordered a beer, and we clinked our glasses to my new contract. A half-eaten shrimp cocktail sits on the table between us.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s distracted and present at the same time. I know she’s enjoying my company, and I made her laugh in the car the whole way here. But she’s lost in her own head too. I wish she would open up a little more.
“Can I ask you something?” she says, her thumb absently brushing up and down the slender stem of her wine glass.
I perk up. “Yeah, anything.”
“Why are you really crashing at Ilmari’s house?”
I tap the table, gesturing below it to my knee. “Busted knee, remember? The place I rent is a split-level with, like, four sets of stairs. Sully and the guys were being ogres about wanting me in a place without stairs while I rehab.”
She takes a sip of her wine, considering my words. “But why are you renting a split-level? Why are you renting period? If that contract I saw is any indication, you could be living in a much nicer situation. It doesn’t make sense that you’re mooching off Mars when you can clearly afford to take care of yourself.”
Shit, she wants to get deep tonight, doesn’t she? I guess that’s the way things are with Tess. She’s an ‘all or nothing’ kind of woman. Maybe if I share my truth with her, she’ll reciprocate and be more open with me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That’s probably too personal for a first date, right?”
Fuck, she’s pulling away again. She’s shutting off.
“I’m a planner,” I blurt, diving headfirst into my reply. “I don’t know, I’ve always been that guy that wants a plan. I like organization, and I like things being in their proper place.”
“Well, that makes sense, seeing as you’re a Virgo,” she replies, taking another sip of her wine.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re saying my birthday has something to do with why I like plans?”
Her head tips slightly to the side as she surveys me. “You don’t think so?”
“No. That’s just dumb.”
She laughs. “I’m sorry—” She dabs at her chin with her napkin. “That was a very Virgo thing to say.”
I just roll my eyes.
“You were talking about liking plans,” she prompts. “Please go on.”
I sigh, trying to think of the right way to explain it. “There are parts of hockey that are perfect for me because I have so much control, you know? The structure is there, and I just get to thrive inside it—meal plans, workout plans, practice schedules, game schedules, travel itineraries. Everything is orderly and organized and so crystal fucking clear. Does that make sense?”
“It does.”
“So, while I live my life under this constant weight of endless organization, there is one singular piece of this life that creates chaos.”
Her eyes brighten, and I know she’s already guessed it. “Contracts.”
“Contracts,” I echo with a nod. “You have guys out here picking up and moving their entire life every single season. If you only sign year to year, you have no idea where you’ll be next. There are even some guys, like the guys who play in the minors, that can get called up and sent down multiple times in a year. That’s what’s happening to Patty right now.”
“Oh, you mean Mr. Tall Broad and Glistening?” she teases.
I give her my best mock glare. “Call him that while you’re on a date with me again, and I’ll take you over my knee and spank you.”
Her eyes go wide as we hold each other’s gaze. It only lasts a moment before she busts out with a laugh. “Ohmygod, that was so fucking hot. But I can’t tell if you actually mean it.” She drops her glass down to the table and leans forward, eyes alight. She lowers her voice, her tone oozing sex. “Is that what you wanna do, Daddy? You want to take me into the bathroom, bend me over the sink, and spank me for being a bad girl?”
I lean back in my chair, eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”