Ugh. My overactive imagination was not my friend at night.
I had to admit I did feel safer with Damon around. At least this way, I already knew where the most evil thing in the vicinity was.
We entered into a mostly empty parking garage before he decided to answer. I’d noticed he had a habit of waiting irritatingly long to reply or talk, as if long stretches of silence and the uncomfortable tension it caused were no bother to him.
“I didn’t trust Mace with you.”
“So, what, you were protecting my virginity?”
He chuckled, as if that was a rich joke. The vague implication that he knew damn well I wasn’t a virgin reminded me of exactly how he knew that. Pleasant pulses of heat passed from my chest to my lower stomach. It reminded me how good it had felt to have him take me from behind—and how strong his hands had felt on my hips.
Stop that, Chelsea. Bad, bad girl.
That seemed like another life now. Another Damon. Still an asshole, but he had at least been an asshole who was attracted to me. I guess that wasn’t a huge plus on the redemption scale, but it was something.
“Mace has a reputation.”
“And you don’t?”
He paused outside a dark, expensive looking luxury car. “I learned a few hard lessons about what happens to people who mix business with pleasure. So, no. The only reputation I have now is of being the prick you don’t want to get stuck in an elevator with.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah, I can see that. You do smell.”
He turned sharply. “What?”
I laughed in surprise to see how vulnerable he looked. “It was a joke. You don’t smell. I mean, bad, at least… What cologne do you use anyway?”
Damon composed himself quickly, and he also chose not to reply to my question as he sat down behind the wheel.
I got in the car, smirking a little. “Why is it you want people to hate you, exactly?”
“I never asked anyone to hate me.” Damon started the car and began driving. “I don’t want to confuse them. I’m their boss. Not a friend. Not a romantic partner. Nothing.”
“No wonder you’re such a source of joy and happiness.”
Damon let out a little grunt of amusement. “I enjoy my work.”
“Is that why you stay late so often?”
He paused, as if he was deciding whether he wanted to continue having a candid conversation with me. “I stayed late tonight because my brother is an imbecile. He’s one of the top players at the most essential position in the sport with the biggest, most valuable market in the world. He should be like a big ass tree with money growing on it. Instead, it feels like I’m always trying to pull his dumb ass out of trouble.”
“Anything I can advise you on? As your personal assistant, of course.”
“Your job is to get my coffee and take care of my dry cleaning. Putting out fires is above your paygrade.”
“Try me.”
Damon sighed. “Chris is too busy partying and chasing women. He has also dipped his interest in the world of drugs recently, which has his coach thinking he’ll wind up getting kicked out of the league before long. They’re threatening to let him walk after this season. Even if another team picks him up, it’ll tank his value. And that’s all assuming his coach isn’t right—that Chris isn’t one failed drug test away from getting kicked out of the league.”
I stared ahead as we drove through the torrential rain. Admittedly, I wanted to impress Damon with a good idea. A solution.
“What about some kind of babysitter? No, better than that. Pay someone to pretend to be engaged to him. Make sure she knows she’s supposed to keep him away from all the bad stuff. No drugs. No other women. Convince his coaches that he’s settling down and he’s a new man.”
Damon’s strong hands flexed on the steering wheel as he sat in silence for an agonizing minute. “That’s actually a good idea. It’s much better than the plan my brother proposed.”
He liked my idea? I made sure I didn’t smile like an idiot and clap my hands. Instead, I sat calmly like the kind of person who regularly has great ideas.
“Good. I’m glad I could be helpful. What was your brother’s plan?”
Damon surprised me by smiling a little. “He wanted to bribe his coach.”
“He really suggested that?”
“My brother has only ever had to focus on football. When it comes to the game, he works his ass off and he’s smart as hell. But everything else? I worry about him.”
I thought about that. I couldn’t quite picture Damon worrying about anything but himself. Then again, I guessed he had left his big fundraiser to personally drive me home. He could’ve called Dick and asked him to take me home instead, but he’d made sure to do it himself. Maybe I really didn’t understand the real Damon.