On New Year’s Eve, I sent teal and pink roses (for her tattoo) and several bottles of Dom to her at Cece’s. She sent me a pic of her smelling them.
We passed each other in the sky when she returned to New York on New Year’s Day while I was flying to Vegas for the game.
My lips twitch. I’m back now, and wecouldhave seen each other. We do live in the same building, but I’m giving her leeway and letting her come to me. Whatever we have, it feels easily breakable.
Shawna’s foot sneaks close to my crotch, and I’m in the middle of moving it when a woman’s voice reaches my ears.
Wearing a halter-style black leather dress, it’s a raven-haired beauty with ruby lips and leopard-print heels. She sways through the throng, and males eye her as she comes toward us. She wears a smile, and her eyes shine, aquamarine and outlined with black. Her straight hair spills around her face. “Hi. I didn’t know you came here.”
My gaze eats up the creamy shoulders, the hollows of her elegant throat, my necklace around her neck.
“Uh ...,” I start.
She leans over. “Just when you think I’ll zig, I zag.”
A rumble of laughter comes from me. “How did you get inside?” Then it dawns on me. “Have you been here before?”
“Once.”
“Were you here with an athlete?” Ire threatens to rise.
Not answering, she grabs a chair from another table and places it at the end of ours and sits. She waves at the waitress, who hurries over, and orders a club soda with lime.
“Mind if I join you?” she says.
I roll my eyes.
Jasper chuckles as he licks cheese puffs off his fingers. “Finally. Where have you been hiding out, Princess?”
I grunt. “Only I call her that.”
He snorts.
“Who the heck are you?” Shawna asks her, a sour look on her face.
“I’m his princess. Who are you?”
Shawna blinks. “Um, afriend.”
“Oh, I get it.” Francesca swivels her head back to me, then takes a look around the bar. “I imagine there’s quite a fewfriendsin here. Should I be worried, boo?”
I laugh. Shawna and I have a brief history, but ...
“Nope,” I murmur.
Jasper leans over to Shawna. “Told ya. Pining.”
“We’re having sex,” Francesca tells her. “It’s complicated, but ...” She kisses her fingers. “Hot.”
Shawna frowns.
Francesca waves her hands at her. “Leave. Go. Find another man. This one is mine.”
Shawna jerks up, her chair scraping the floor. “You could have said something, Tuck.”
“Sorry ...” I laugh, still watching Francesca as she shoos at Shawna. I never expected her to draw a line in the sand because a woman was flirting with me.
After Shawna leaves, Jasper talks about the game, shows her our bracelets—she’s already seen mine, but he doesn’t mind—asks about her holiday, and then eventually gets up to grab more beer.