“That’s okay,” she says, gesturing to the waiter to bring the check. When he places the bill on the table, her hand shoots out to take it when I stop her.
“Harper.” My tone isn’t as light as it usually is. One, because she’s trying to pay when she knows that is something I will never allow, and two, I know she’s mad and I don’t want her to hide that from me. “I know you’re mad,” I say before taking the receipt and placing a few bills on the table to cover the tab and the tip.
“I’m not mad,” she admits, her eyes meeting mine as I give her that look that tells her how much I don’t believe her. “Fine, I’m upset, but I’m not mad.”
I burst out a laugh, so loud that a few people look our way.
“Come on, crazy girl, I’ll take you home before I head to meet Justin.”
She grins as I take her hand in mine and lead her outside.
“You know I would rather spend the night with you, right?” I whisper in her ear when the cool night air hits my face.
“I know,” she murmurs against my shoulder as I pull her closer, walking slowly toward my truck. I know I told Justin I would meet him in half an hour, but right now I want to make sure Harper’s good before I leave, and if that means I’m a few minutes late? So be it.
Just as we reach my truck, she opens the passenger door and before she has the chance to climb in, I spin her and take her mouth with mine. I expect the kiss to be heated and punishing but it turns into a slow and languid exploration of her mouth. It’s as if I’m memorizing her lips, imprinting her taste to my brain and reminding myself what her hips feel like beneath my fingers.
“I wish I could spend the rest of the night inside you,” I say, kissing down the side of her neck, loving the way her knees weaken with each pass of my lips. “But right now, I need to be Josh Anderson, the baseball player, not Josh your boyfriend.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she whispers, her fingers trailing over the buttons of my shirt, her eyes not meeting mine. “It’s not fair of me to think that I can monopolize all of your time.”
I smile, tilting her face up so our eyes lock. I want her eyes on me when I say this.
“There is nothing wrong with you wanting me all to yourself.” I grin, loving the blush that’s creeping up her cheeks. “Trust me, I feel the same way.” I lean down and kiss her lightly. “But just remember that if I had it my way, you would be able to monopolize every second of every day of the rest of my life. Got it?”
She smiles, nodding her head.
“Good. Now get in so I can drop you off and go meet Justin so I can come back home to you, okay?”
When I leave her at her apartment I make my way to Paul’s. I hope to God there’s more to this meeting than management being concerned about my numbers.
“You’re late,” Justin rumbles, handing me a beer as I sit next to him at the bar. It’s not packed like I expected on my way over, but I’m still surprised we’re sitting here.
“Yeah, well, I had to drop Harper off at home.”
His eyes don’t leave the TV screens in front of us, and I realize why we’re sitting here.
“Which one of your players is playing tonight?” I ask, knowing I’m not his only client and also knowing that most don’t live in the city.
“Rodgers is playing in Colorado and Carter is finishing up in New York.” He nods as my eyes take in the games. I know he would rather be watching at home. “Speaking of Harper…”
At the mention of her name, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my shackles are up instantly.
“What about her?” I take a sip of my beer, trying not to break the bottle with how hard I’m gripping the glass.
“It’s the reason I asked you to talk.”
I crease my brow, knowing that’s not what he told me over the phone.
“Before you get pissed, I know I said that management called me, and they did. Just not about numbers.”
I arch a brow and wait for him to continue.
“There have been a few articles written about you lately with a couple different women, and they’re concerned you’re distracted.”
My eyes roll as we both take a breath and watch a few minutes of the game.
“Since when does my love life land on the desk of the men upstairs?” I say after a beat of silence and when I look over at Justin, he’s grimacing.
“When their star player is spending more time seeking pussy and less time on the field.”
I slam my hand on the bar, causing everyone around us to look our way.
“If I ever hear you refer to Harper as pussy again, I will not only dump the rest of this beer over your head but also—” I would have threatened to punch him but we both know that wouldn’t help and it would just be another headline for me to explain.
“Noted. But in all seriousness, what’s going on, Josh?”
I spend the next thirty minutes reluctantly going through my entire relationship with Harper,
“So, it’s serious?” he asks as if the way I was talking about her earlier wasn’t a clue.
“Of course, it is. I wouldn’t have talked to you about her if it wasn’t.”
He nods his head, finishing off his beer and turning on his stool to face me.
“Good. Just remember that if this relationship distracts you in any way, management will know, and they will come at you hard. After the glorious season you had last year
