Duncan couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Their problems were over because she’d found a rich boyfriend? What the fuck? What problems would that be? Well, obviously money problems.
He folded his arms across his chest, his shirt only half buttoned over his jeans. Mrs. Johnson’s gaze followed Amber’s and her eyes widened at seeing him. “Oh.” She stared at him. “Hello. You must be Duncan.”
She came at him with an outstretched hand and a huge smile. Yep, Amber’d gotten her looks from her mom. Mrs. Johnson was probably in her forties but looked ten years younger than that, with platinum blond shoulder-length hair in a stylish layered cut, her long bangs sweeping across her forehead. She wasn’t as tall as Amber, maybe only five-five, slender, dressed in a gray sweater and black pants.
“I’m Duncan.” He shook her hand quickly, then stepped back. “And you must be Amber’s mom. Pleased to meet you.”
He flicked his glance at Amber. “I should leave you to visit with your mom. She’s come a long way.” He turned to return to the bedroom.
“No, that’s okay.” Amber followed him and set a hand on his arm.
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “I’m sure you have things to do.”
“Game day.”
“Right. Right.” Her forehead creased. “I’ll just…” She shot a glance at her mother. “Have a seat, Mom. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Her mother beamed a smile at them both.
Amber followed him into the bedroom. “You heard what she said, didn’t you?”
“Oh yeah.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I wasn’t looking for a rich boyfriend.”
“Right.” He sat on the bed to put on socks and boots, then grabbed his wallet from her dresser and shoved it into his pocket.
“Duncan, wait.”
“Gotta go.”
She stared at him. Her face tightened and her lips thinned. Fuck, he hated the way she looked, all closed up.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Okay. Yeah. Big rich and famous pro athlete has to go.” She whirled around and stalked out of the bedroom.
Duncan followed her. Anger swelled and burned inside him. If her mother wasn’t sitting there, not to mention Easton in his bedroom, he would’ve called her on that bullshit comment. He grabbed his jacket from where he’d tossed it on an armchair last night. He’d been so hot for her they hadn’t bothered hanging up outerwear. He shoved his hands into the pockets and one hand closed around the key fob there. It had a freakin’ red ribbon tied in a bow attached to it because he’d been planning to give it to her this morning. His gut cramped.
He pulled it out and turned to face her. She was watching him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes snapping. She lifted her chin. “What?”
“Here.” He tossed the key fob to her.
Startled, she almost didn’t catch it. “What’s this?”
“Something I picked up for you yesterday. It’s parked out front. Plate number’s on the tag. Enjoy.”
And he walked out.
He leaned against the elevator wall and stared at the stone floor all the way down to the lobby, trying not to think. When the elevator doors opened, he pushed away from the wall and walked through the lobby. Out on the street, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket to call a cab to come pick him up. He started walking to the nearest cross street, not wanting to hang out in the lobby. Wind yowled down the street between the buildings, and once he’d made his call, he pulled his knit hat out, gave it a shake, and tugged it down over his ears.
What the fucking fuck. Did he not pride himself on learning from his mistakes? Sign him up for the redneck dumbass of the year award. What girl would really want anything to do with him? He shook his head, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. He stopped at the corner and waited for the cab he’d called.
Women. Fuck, he was such a loser. He’d sworn off women before and hadn’t even lasted hours before he’d asked one out, earning Rupper a hefty payout in their bet. Betting on what a loser he was. This time he was done. Dunnnnnnnnn.
He especially didn’t need this bullshit when the team was desperately trying to make the playoffs.
Hopefully she liked the fucking car.
—
Amber stared at the key fob in her hand. Car keys? Parked out front? What the hell?
“What does he mean?” Mom crossed over to peer at the keys. “Oh my God! Did he buy you a car?”
“No.”
“Then what are the keys for? I think he did! He said it’s parked out front—let’s go see! Oh my God, I wonder if it’s a Mercedes or something…” She grabbed Amber’s hand and started pulling her toward the door.
Amber planted her feet on the floor, not budging. “I’m not going to look at the car, Mom. If he bought a car, I’m not taking it.”