“Wait, I thought you didn’t date Storm players?”
Em’s face heated. It was so embarrassing to admit, and she’d already made a fool of herself tonight—in front of all the fans. She wasn’t ready to rehash her disaster with Damien just yet. “That’s a story for another time.”
“Another time?” He leaned forward. “All I’m hearing is excuses to go out on another date when we’ve barely started our third.”
“Third? What are you talking about?” She rested her elbow on the table and leaned forward. “This is our first date, and that’s assuming this even counts as a real date.”
The waitress reappeared and put their drinks on the table next to the roses.
“It absolutely counts,” he said when the waitress walked off again. A corner of his mouth lifted into a teasing smile. “And it’s date number three.”
“How do you figure that?” She raised her brows.
He lifted a single finger. “Well, after I saved your life, you stood me up for pizza.”
Em laughed. Every time Grant told the story of the soccer ball, it got more elaborate. In a couple weeks, she was sure the soccer ball was going to turn into a bomb that Grant somehow diffused with his eyes closed. “Okay.”
He lifted a second finger. “Then you bought me lunch on our second date.”
“I told you, that wasn’t a real date. Cafeteria food doesn’t count.”
“Debatable.” He shrugged. “Which makes this date three. You keep saying you’re not interested in dating me, but somehow you ended up on that field anyway. How much did you have to pay Miriam to get there?”
Em shook her head, but she couldn’t stop the smile from touching her lips. “Miriam practically begged me to do it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you sure it wasn’t the other way around?”
“I didn’t even know you were the bachelor until Miriam told me.”
“And that’s when you said yes. You wanted an excuse to get close to me.”
She playfully pushed his shoulder and tried not to notice the hard muscles beneath her fingers. “Shut up.”
“So, it’s true. You were happy I was the bachelor instead of Barros.”
The jury was still out. Barros would have been easier in a lot of ways, but he definitely didn’t give her butterflies like Grant did. She shook her head. “You’re the worst.”
“But you like me, admit it.”
Oh, how she wanted to admit it. She really enjoyed the time she’d spent with Grant. He was so easy to be around, and he seemed so genuine. Em couldn’t imagine him doing the things that her past boyfriends had done. Of course, she hadn’t imagined them betraying her either.
Now she could picture it perfectly.
Her stomach suddenly felt like it was full of lead, the butterflies long gone. She kept a brave smile on her face. “Keep dreaming, rookie.”
“I haven’t stopped since I first saw you.”
Em’s breath caught in her chest, and her smile fell. When he said sweet things like that, it made it much more difficult to pretend this was just a silly crush—that she wasn’t really at risk of getting hurt. Flirting was much easier when they kept it light, just taking jabs at one another.
A blue card called on the other team’s forward saved her from coming up with a reply to his heartbreakingly adorable comment. That meant the Storm would be up one player for the next two minutes.
Silence fell over her and Grant as they watched the game play in front of them. Or at least Em tried to watch the game. As much as she loved seeing her brother in action, it was difficult to focus on what was going on in front of her when Grant was sitting so close.
She was all too aware as he lifted the mug of beer to his lips. She couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he took a drink. Em lifted her own glass to her lips with trembling fingers and took a sip.
Why are you so nervous? As much as Grant teased, it still wasn’t a real date. And she didn’t want it to be. Or did she?
She took another sip of wine for good measure as she watched Silas take a shot on goal. It was blocked by the other team’s keeper.
“Did you really know it was me?” she asked, her eyes trained on the field.
“From the very first word. You made me speechless.”
Miriam had jokingly said that during the game, but hearing it from Grant made her insides warm.
“But your not-so-subtle reference to my hometown helped.”
She thought of McKensie and how Miriam had gone out of her way to stop the crazy chick from playing. “Not too stalker-y?”
“I thought it was sweet.” He paused. “Just like your violin rendition.”
Em covered her face with her hands. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”
Grant chuckled. “I think my ears bled a little.”
She pushed him again. “What was I supposed to do? Be the third drum set? I panicked.”
“I actually loved it. You weren’t afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of all those people.”
Her face burned. She could only hope none of the fans were recording the show on their phone. If anyone posted that, she was sure to be the butt of several online jokes. Thank goodness her students were too young to have cell phones, or they’d all see it for sure before Monday. “Well, I guess it goes to prove that people like the violin better than drums.”
“I like you.”
And there he went again, being all sweet and serious and making Em break out into a sweat. Every time he said something like that, it lessened her resolve. She knew better than to fall for a smooth talking soccer player. If only there were some kind of test to see what kind of boyfriend Grant would be six months down the road.
She played with the stem of her glass. “You don’t even know me.”
“Isn’t it enough that I want to? I know we