The entire team races toward the door. Ross is hot on my heels. “Have fun on your date.” He does air quotes on the last word. And while I know there will be other activities going on tonight, I am going to take her out. She’s not just a piece of ass to me. She’s so much more, and I hope she understands that.
“Whatever, man,” I wave him away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
All the other guys are clamoring to leave the hotel and I’m trying to make it to the elevators. Once we were checked in, I sent Jolene to the room so she could relax. It’s the least I could do after she’s been on her feet for who knows how long. And even though she seemed to act like everything was fine between us, I can’t help feeling like something’s different. I just hope she isn’t still upset about the photos on that magazine. My past no longer matters. Not now that she’s in my life.
The elevator takes ridiculously long to ascend. If I didn’t know the hotel was on the newer side, I’d wonder if this thing has ever had any work done to it. Finally, the doors slide open and I hurry out of the rickety box.
I knock on the door before I wave the keycard in front of the door. I don’t want to freak her out by just barging in. “Hey, Jo,” I call into the almost dark room. She hasn’t said anything about the nickname, or me saying it. Fingers crossed it means I have her approval.
She’s not in the sitting area. I walk through the short hallway and see her lying on the bed, a book in one hand and her phone in the other. Her eyebrows are drawn down, and she’s staring at the phone. Not the book. What could have gone down while I was in the meeting? Hopefully that reporter isn’t doing anything else to cause problems. “Jolene.”
She jumps at the sound of my voice. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.” She swipes the screen of her phone, and then locks it. That’s odd. “How did the meeting go?”
“Boring,” I shrug. “It’s nothing we didn’t already know. He’s just being insane with making sure we’re studying the other team. As if we all aren’t watching old games to familiarize ourselves with them.”
“That sounds like a waste of time.” She sets the book down and comes to stand next to me. A small grin on her face, even though it seems strained to me. She’s just tired. That’s all. “Is there anything in particular I need to wear for dinner?”
“Nope,” I pull her into me. “I didn’t want to go somewhere fancy. You’ve got to be exhausted and I’ll need to get back early.”
“What time is the game tomorrow?”
“Three or four? I can’t remember. I only know it’s an early one.” I let go of her, and walk to my suitcase, grabbing some clothes out of it. “I need to take a shower and we can go after that.” Normally, I’d go in what I have on, but I didn’t shower before I left the house and I don’t want to go anywhere in my ‘flying’ clothes.
“Want some company?” She asks and stalks toward me.
Her actions are the polar opposite of her expression, and I’m not sure what to do. “It’s all good. I’ll be quick.” What the fuck? I never turn down sex, especially when it’s with my feisty flight attendant. I need to sort this out. “I’ll be ready to go in fifteen.”
“Oh, okay,” she sighs. “I’ll get ready, then.”
Tonight is not going how I planned at all. When did this become so confusing? My fingers are crossed that it’s exhaustion and nothing that has to do with us. It seems like she’s pulling away and I don’t know what to do about that. Only time will tell, I guess.
* * *
We are seated at a small restaurant close to the hotel. I want to wine and dine her, but I need to keep the heavy foods to a minimum. It’ll do me no good to eat so much I get sick on the court. That’s definitely not going to lead us to a victory. She’s free to have whatever she wants, though.
We place our order. Grilled chicken for me, and a steak for her. One of my favorite things about her is she’s not scared to eat an actual meal in front of me. Most women order a salad and then look like they are hungry for the rest of the date. Jolene, on the other hand, is a person unto herself. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks, especially me. Even if things feel off, at least I know she’s not going to fake anything.
“Are you excited about meeting my mom?” I have to ask something because this silence is different than other times. It feels deafening instead of being a comfort. I don’t understand what happened. She seemed happy to see me when I got on the plane, but I could be wrong.
“Yeah,” she mumbles around a bite of her food. “I’m kind of nervous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
That was a very direct answer and held very little enthusiasm. I swear. It’s like we’ve fallen into an alternate dimension or something. Things haven’t been right between us since she saw the magazine cover. But surely that isn’t what is bothering her. And if it was…she should feel like she can talk to me about it. At least I hope that’s the case. “They’re excited to meet you.”
“I am, too,” she replies after another bite, but she looks over my shoulder and raises her eyebrows.
“What is it?” The urge to turn around is strong, but I don’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to us if I don’t need to.
“There’s a woman standing outside the window with a huge camera.” Damn it. Not this again. “She has it pointed directly at us.”
“Maybe it’s an excited fan.” I start to turn around. I need to see what she’s so freaked out about. There’s also a chance that it’s that crazy ass reporter from the game in Missouri. And if it is, I need to know.
“No,” Jolene stops me. “We don’t need to bring any more attention than we already have.”
“We can always get the rest of our stuff to go and head back to the hotel. They don’t allow anyone up to the floor the players are on. Well, unless someone approves them beforehand.”
“We can finish dinner. If we’re going to be together, this is something I have to get used to, right?” Her voice is shaky, and I want nothing more than to pull her into a hug. To do anything that reassures her that everything is fine. She doesn’t stop staring over my shoulder for another few minutes. “Okay, she’s gone.” The way her shoulders sag breaks me. This isn’t the life she wants, and here I am dragging her into it without asking if she was okay with it.
“I’m sorry.” Both of our plates are almost empty when I finally have the nerve to open my mouth.