take their picture with Wade.
“Can we kiss you?” one of them asked him.
“No,” Sam said.
Disappointed, they left.
Wade looked amused. And obnoxiously full of himself. “I’ve never seen this jealous streak in you before. I like it.”
“You are so ridiculously spoiled. You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” he said mildly.
She laughed and reached for her beer. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey, I wasn’t born like this, you know. I had a childhood, and then the awkward teenage stage where no girl would even look at me-”
“I’m serious.” He studied her for a long moment. “I was small for my age, and scrawny. It was survival of the fittest, and I definitely wasn’t anywhere close. I got beat up all the time.”
She looked at him, not sure if he was pulling her leg, but he looked right back, eyes even and steady.
He was telling the truth. “So what happened?” she asked. “You magically got big and bad and sexy in college?”
He arched a brow.
“Come on, you have a mirror.”
“What happened is I finally grew, and in college had access to a gym, so yeah on the big and bad.” He flashed her a smile.
“What?”
“You think I’m sexy.”
“Looks will fade.”
He kept smiling.
“What
“You want me.”
“I do not.” She did. God help her, she did.
“You want me bad, Princess. Admit it.”
She was spared responding when a tall, dark, and handsome man came up to Wade and grabbed his beer. He downed it, slapped it back to the table, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You son of a bitch.” And then he swung a punch at Wade’s head.
Wade ducked the punch, then went low and hard, grabbing the guy around the middle and surging up with him to his feet.
Sam leapt to her feet as well, pulling out her cell phone to call the police, but Wade was laughing, and the guy he was holding on to grabbed him up in a great, big bear hug.
“Can you believe it?” he asked Wade with a wide grin as flashes went off all around them. “We’re here for my
“Mark, I presume,” Sam said drolly, putting away her phone since it appeared she didn’t have to protect her multimillion dollar player.
“In the flesh,” Mark said with a little bow.
“You two always greet each other like Neanderthals?”
Wade watched Mark laugh and shake Sam’s hand, watched Sam smile back at Mark-and for the record, it was her real smile, too, not the fake ones she’d been pawning off on him all damn day.
“Samantha McNead,” she said smoothly. “Publicist for the Heat-” She broke off, looking horrified as she clearly recognized her mistake.
She’d introduced herself as if she were here in a professional capacity.
But she wasn’t.
She was here, pretending to be Wade’s girlfriend.
Mark cocked his head and studied her. “Well, aren’t you a serious thing?” He glanced at Wade. “Not your usual type, is she?”
Sam had frozen, so Wade opened his mouth to tell Mark the real deal between them, but before he could say a word, Mark laughed good and hard and pulled Sam up for the same bear hug he’d given Wade. “So maybe you’ll actually stick.”
Sam relaxed, and seeming relieved, she hugged Mark back as Wade looked on, a little surprised to find that her real smile completely softened her face.
Not that she wasn’t gorgeous. Because she was. Willowy, stacked, and blond, she absolutely was, and she took his breath… But when she smiled from the heart, she was more than just beautiful. She seemed approachable.
Which had to be an optical illusion.
“I’m still blown away that we’re actually here.” Mark gestured to their luxurious surroundings, then slapped Wade’s back. “Not bad considering how we started out, huh?”
“How did you start out?” Sam asked.
“Don’t get him started,” Wade told her, hoping to get a subject change pronto.
But of course Sam ignored him. “I’d love to hear it,” she said to Mark with that sweet smile.
Wade groaned and Mark grinned as they all sat back down. He loved to tell this story every bit as much as Wade hated to hear it.
“Wade and I go way back,” Mark started. “We met at orientation for Cal State Long Beach, just two punk street kids. We became roommates.” He grinned in fond memory. “I think we lived off ramen noodles for the next four years, not a frigging penny to our names, either of us.” He looked at Wade. “How many nights did we steal food out of the cafeteria while dreaming of Big Macs?”
“Too many,” Wade said, giving in with a shake of his head. Mark found it all vastly amusing, but when Wade thought of those days, more than the long hours of studying to make up for his lack of such habits in high school, more than finding his love of baseball, he remembered the nights he’d gone to bed with his belly growling. Feeling Sam’s eyes on him, he turned and looked into her baby blues, filled with a surprising warmth and compassion.
“And now look at us,” Mark marveled. “Me, a freaking Hollywood producer, and Wade a star pro ballplayer. Blows my mind every time.” He grabbed Wade in another bone-crunching hug. “Love you, man.”
“Okay,” Wade said, good-naturedly hugging him back before gently shoving free. “Save it for the alcohol-soaked reception. We’re going to check in.”
“Good.” Mark nodded. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Wade watched Mark walk off, well aware that Sam was still studying him, probably trying to figure out how he felt about Mark exposing such a personal time in his life, but the only thing he felt was relief that he no longer went to bed hungry, and an undeniable joy at the thought of the weekend ahead, spent with good friends.
“Oh, and don’t forget Meg’s schedule,” Mark called back. “God help us all if we don’t follow it.”
“Schedule?” Sam murmured.
Wade slung a friendly arm over her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I’m all the schedule you need, baby.”
With a short laugh, she eyed the bill for their drinks and reached for her purse.
Wade put a hand over hers and dropped some cash on the table.
“I don’t expect you to pay for me this weekend, Wade.”
“You’re just worried you’ll owe me.”
The look that crossed her face told him he was right as they headed across the lobby toward the front desk. She walked quickly and efficiently, pulling ahead of him, her very professional business suit giving a serious back-off air to anyone who looked. Or maybe that was the way she walked, as if she owned her world and intended to own
