I have to fight the urge to tell her over and over again just how sexy I find her, just how insanely beautiful she looks tonight. I can picture her reaction, her rolling her eyes, shifting away from me, shutting down.

  I bet she’s gone too long not hearing those words said out loud by anyone other than fucking Patrick. It’s like she’s forgotten she exists outside of Dale’s Diner and her grandmother’s nursing home. She’s forgotten she’s a real human with real needs.

  I want to bring her even closer to me, drag her onto my lap in the middle of dinner. Fortunately for her, our food arrives.

  I make sure Raelynn gets plenty to eat.

  She shoots me a timid smile when I ask her if she wants seconds and then shakes her head.

  “I’m really full, actually.”

  “You can take it home then.”

  It hits me all of a sudden how much I wish I could take care of her. How easy it would be for me to swoop into her life and solve so many of her problems. I tried to do it the other night. I asked her to let me help, and it didn’t end well. I doubt she would have even let me buy her dinner except for the fact that we’re technically sharing.

  “Sure you don’t want the leftovers?” she asks me.

  It annoys me that she’s not more concerned with herself. She shouldn’t be so willing to give her food away.

  “No. I’ll have them package it up for you along with more of that bread.”

  Her cheeks flush.

  “I just loved the dipping sauce,” she says, as if she needs to explain why she went back for so many slices.

  I excuse myself to use the bathroom and intercept our waiter on the way so I can ask him to package up two new meals for her to take home since there wasn’t much leftovers. It kills me that this is the extent of my power. Short of breaking laws or outright slipping cash into her purse, there’s not much I can do to offer Raelynn a helping hand without her cooperation. I had my assistant look into nursing homes in the area. There are a few, but it wasn’t hard to pin down where Raelynn’s grandmother stays. My assistant gave me the number two days ago, and I called and asked to be connected to billing. I acted like I was just an inquiring relative, wondering about facility costs. They said there are bills overdue on Raelynn’s grandmother’s account.

  I haven’t decided what I’ll do about that now that I know.

  I can’t imagine how angry Raelynn would be if she knew I was snooping around, especially after the other night.

  I return from the bathroom to find Anthony in my seat, chatting with Raelynn. She’s smiling from ear to ear, happy and at ease with him in a way she’s never fully been around me. I wish I could fix that, but it’s not something I can turn off—the tension between us. The heat. It’s there and we’ve tried to ignore it, but tonight I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her near me, touching me. She kept her hands to herself save for the few moments she had one on my chair. I wanted her to take it a step further, to skate her hand up my thigh and squeeze, lay claim in a way I’d have to act on. She didn’t though. She’s kept herself in check, and I’m envious she still can. I’m long past the point of pretending.

  I walk over to reclaim my seat, and Raelynn’s gaze finds mine. Her smile stays in place, but her eyes turn thoughtful, assessing, wary with every step I take toward her. She’s on high alert as I round the back of her chair. It’s not as if I can take my seat; Anthony’s still there. He’s talking to her, telling her the story of when a fan threw a bra at him mid-game as I stand behind her with my hands on the back of her chair. She leans back and her shoulder blades brush my knuckles. I stay frozen for just long enough to let her settle, and then I curve my hand up around the base of her neck so my thumb runs along her upper spine and my palm rests against her pulse. It’s nothing. Barely enough to warrant a second glance from anyone at the table. The only reason it draws any curiosity at all is the fact that none of my teammates have seen me with a woman since Shelby. I’m sure they’re wondering what I’m doing with Raelynn, how far I’ll take this considering the shitstorm I’ve been dealing with for the last few months.

  I don’t care about any of that.

  I’m focused on Raelynn’s reaction, waiting for her to ease away from me and withdraw.

  She earns her nickname, Little Bird. She feels so fragile in my hand, tiny.

  She stays perfectly still as I touch her, her attention still on Anthony as he laughs. She laughs along with him, though I think she’s just following his lead. I doubt she’s following along with his story very well, not with me touching her.

  “Want your seat back?” Anthony asks, pulling my attention away from her hair. I was watching the lights dance across the blonde strands.

  “Raelynn can share with me.”

  I can’t help myself. She’s given me an inch, and I want a mile.

  I’m expecting her to laugh it off and tell me to find my own seat, but she just shrugs and stands. “It’s fine. You can just have it.”

  I chuckle and steal the seat. She makes a move to sidle past me, but I loop my arm around her waist before she can and keep her there, right beside me. I won’t force her to sit down, but I want to test her, goad her into stepping out of her comfort zone. If she wants to.

  She turns stiff as a board for a second, warring with herself. She looks back at me, and we’re nearly eye to eye even with me sitting down. I raise a brow in a subtle challenge and she eases up, leaning her weight back into me as I shift her down onto my thigh. She’s not fully on my lap, tilted toward Anthony with her feet on the ground. It looks casual, but it’s definitely not.

  Inside, my body is raging like I’m a preteen with a girl on my lap for the first time. My heart hammers in my chest.

  “Have you seen the design for our jerseys for the Games?” Anthony asks.

  “No.”

  “They’re retro-inspired. Pretty cool. Let me get my phone, I’ll show you.”

  He stands to go retrieve his phone and Raelynn wiggles on my thigh, trying to get more comfortable, and I swear to god all the blood leaves my head.

  This probably wasn’t a good idea.

  “Will you stop moving around?”

  “I feel like I’m going to fall off your lap,” she protests.

  I tug her back even farther so her butt nestles in the groove between my thighs.

  There’s no way she doesn’t feel the fact that I’m turned on right now. From this.

  Jesus. I’d wipe a hand down my face if it wasn’t so obvious.

  “Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate?” she says, angling her face toward me.

  “No one is paying attention to us.”

  “Everyone is paying attention to us.”

  “Don’t worry about them.”

  “Well it’s either worry about them or worry about…”

  She adjusts her position on my legs again, and I’m fucking dying here.

  “Are you purposely trying to kill me?” I ask, tightening my arm around her waist, trying to get her to hold still.

  “That is not my fault.”

  “It feels like you’re giving me a lap dance.”

  She laughs. “Maybe you haven’t had a lap dance in a while, because this is definitely not one. I’m barely moving.”

  I narrow my eyes, and she laughs harder.

  “You’re the one who put me here. I was going to walk over and talk to Leanna.”

  “Just stop moving.”

  “Or what?”

  “Little Bird, you don’t want to go down this road.”

  She turns and leans into me, pressing her hands to my chest as her weight leans farther onto my hard length. “Don’t I? I’m here, aren’t I? On your lap…drinking your wine…sharing your food…”

  As she talks, her eyes drift across the expanse of my chest, but when I speak again, they flit back to my face.

  “I thought you were mad at me for the other night.”

  “I am mad at you.”

  “Then stop gripping my shirt like that.”

  Her sharp blue eyes narrow. Her anger is showing, and I like it.

  She doesn’t release my shirt. In fact, one of her hands skates down my chest, over my abs, and lower, until she’s teasing the hem of my shirt and drawing it up a smidge, just enough to touch the bottom of my abs. I wonder if she’s had a little too much wine. I wonder if I should stop her. Then she leans in and her mouth is against the shell of my ear, and all of my willpower goes out the window.

  “Maybe I can be mad at you and want you at the same time.”

  “Little Bird…”

  She rears back, angrier than ever. “Stop calling me that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re leaving in thirteen days. You don’t get to call me pet names.”

  I smirk, and her hand on my stomach curls in until her nails scrape against my skin.

  “Here’s the jersey design,” Anthony says, coming back around with his phone.

  Raelynn slides off my lap and stands, straightening her short dress. “I’m going to tell Leanna you’re driving me to my car.”

  She walks away without waiting for my response, and I watch her go like my life depends on it. I memorize the subtle sway of her hips, the tantalizing length of her legs.

  Then Anthony snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I yank his phone out of his hand to look at these damn jerseys I don’t care about.

  “Jesus, you’re in trouble.” He laughs.

  Raelynn stays over chatting with Leanna and Trey until our waiter arrives with the to-go bag for me. Not everyone is ready to leave, so I slip him some cash to cover my portion, including a hefty tip, and then I curve around the table toward Raelynn.

  She sees me coming and crosses her arms over her chest. I try to read her expression, but it’s hopeless. I never know what she’s thinking from one second to the next. There’s no sense in trying.

  “You ready?”

  She nods and turns to give Leanna a quick hug.

  “I’ll bring your clothes with me to work in the morning. You’re coming in for pancakes, right?”

  Leanna grins. “Yes. But no promises on how early I’ll get there.”

  Raelynn smiles and then says bye to Trey on her way toward the door. I nod to my friends as I head after her, grateful that my stride makes it easy to catch up to her.

  “That looks like a ton of food in there,” she notes once I’m walking beside her with the to-go bag at my side. “I didn’t think we had that much left over.”

  “I just ordered two more entrees and had them package them up.”

  She shakes her head. “Of course you did.”

  I smirk. “Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for you to take your anger out on me on the drive.”

  “You act like I’m a pain in the ass.”

  “Maybe you are.”

  A laugh bursts out of her like she can’t believe what she just heard.

  “I’m the pain in the ass? Me?”

  “Keep walking, Birdie.”

  She stops just outside the restaurant. The bodyguards who were stationed by the door are waiting to walk us to my car. She notices them and immediately falls into line beside me as I curve around the parking lot and unlock my SUV.

  I open her door for her and help her climb in. Then I hand her the food and walk around to my side to get in, nodding at the guard stationed there. I’m habituated to them at this point, but it’s obvious Raelynn’s not.

  “Are they always around when you guys go out?”

  “More or less. I have my own security team for when we travel and when I’m back in Los Angeles. There are guys posted back at Coach Dalton’s as well. You’ve probably seen them.”

  We’re quiet for a bit as I head out on the highway, driving back toward Pine Hill.

  “I’m surprised there wasn’t any press there tonight. Leanna said you heard about some guys coming into Dale’s the other day asking about you?”

  “Yeah. You did the right thing by not engaging them. Tonight was a last-minute thing, and most of the reporters that are here in Texas cover sports, not pop culture. They want to get the scoop on our practices, playing strategy, final team lineup, that sort of thing, not follow us to dinner.”

  “Oh…right.” She’s quiet for a beat before she asks, “Back home, if you were at dinner, would there be paparazzi?”

  I hesitate before I answer, hating the truth. “Yes.”

  She nods solemnly. “Right.”

  Then she sets the bag of food on the ground and undoes the buckle of her high heels, letting out a quiet moan when she peels them off her feet.

  I watch with rapt attention as she draws her legs up and sits crisscross on the front seat, her dress sliding higher up her thighs.

  I turn the radio on and it plays quietly in the background as I continue driving down the dark highway. Raelynn’s looking out the window, so lost in her own world that I’d feel bad interrupting whatever she’s thinking about.

  I see her hands clutched in her lap, the way she draws the pad of her pointer finger over her thumbnail over and over again as if something is worrying her. I can see the edge of her profile, the worry lines between her brows.

  Even though I’m tempted to, I don’t pressure her to talk.

  I lean over, dropping my forearm on the middle console, warring with myself over whether or not I want to take her hand in mine. This is ludicrous. Whatever she’s worrying about, I can help her with. I can make all her problems go away if only she’d let me.

  “Raelynn—”

  She cuts me off. “There’s a turn up here, out onto an abandoned road. It used to dead-end at a limestone quarry, but it’s been deserted for years. Turn off when you see it.”

  She doesn’t look over at me when she issues these instructions, but when my headlights catch on an old road sign hanging on one hinge, I turn off without a word, curious.

  “Keep going,” Raelynn says quietly, pointing forward.

  I inch along slowly, wondering why she’s having us go out here in the dead of night. The road is definitely deserted. Even a few yards off the highway, the concrete starts to show its age. The forest encroaches on either side, trees spitting their limbs out over the road, shrubs overgrown in every direction.

  “Slow down!” Raelynn shouts suddenly, reaching her hand out to squeeze my forearm.

  I slam my foot on the brakes and my tires squeal. The car comes to a sudden stop feet away from a fawn stopped in the center of the road, its eyes gleaming bright in my headlights. A second later, a doe emerges from the forest behind it, darts in front of the fawn, and the two of them scurry across the road and disappear again into the dense foliage.

  My heart’s racing. Raelynn’s hand is still gripping my arm, threatening to cut off blood flow to my hand.

  I hear her sharp intake of breaths even over the quiet radio.

  “Maybe you should just stop here,” she says, not looking at me as she eases her grip and slides her hand off my arm.

  I pull forward a little bit, slowly driving us onto the side of the road enough that we won’t block someone if they try to pass, though there’s no way anyone will be coming down this way after us.

  I cut the engine and the radio dies. We’re left with the cicadas and the frogs and the crickets, and even those eventually fade into dull background noise as I focus on Raelynn unbuckling her seat belt and nervously tugging her hair behind her ears before she sneaks a glance over at me.

  I don’t say a word, confused and enthralled to be here alone with her.

  Is she about to tell me to get out so we can walk the rest of the way to the quarry? Are we here to talk?

  Somehow I doubt it. She’s not saying a word as she looks back down at her hands and keeps on rubbing that damn nail.

  I open my mouth, about to say her name and ask her what she’s thinking, but her left hand comes out and grabs hold of mine, and then she lifts it to place it gently on her leg, just above her knee. There’s no explanation to accompany it, no desires spoken aloud. Just her, pressing my hand down under hers so I can’t take it away.

  I feel her thigh shaking. The subtle way her lips part when I tighten my grasp to let her know I won’t pull back even if she lets go.

  She leans back and her head hits the seat. She tilts to look in my direction, meeting my gaze for only a fleeting moment before she loses the nerve and looks back down at my hand on her leg. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and I’m enamored by the sight until other parts of her win out. I skate my gaze down her smooth neck and collarbones, the small curves of her breasts visible in the slinky dress. They rise and fall with every heavy breath she takes, straining against the fabric.

  She shifts her legs on the seat, and it’s subtle; they’re only an inch wider than they were before, but then she takes my hand and drags it up a little higher, just to the soft hem of her dress. It bunches up at the top of her thighs, and there’s no possible way to mistake what she’s doing. This silent plea might as well be encased in flashing neon lights.

  “Birdie?” I whisper, scared to startle her.

  Her blue eyes flash in the darkness when she looks up at me.

  “Do you want me to keep going?”

  I don’t breathe, don’t move, don’t blink—so scared to spook her and ruin this.

  She shifts her head—up and down—a slow nod, and then another one, faster, more obvious.

  I don’t hesitate. I lean across the center console and kiss her, give her back the vulnerability she’s just given me. Dragging me out here, putting my hand on her. God, she’s scared. She emits a little shocked whimper when my lips touch hers, and I pull back for a moment, worried I hurt her.

  Her breath skates across my lips before she arches up off the seat and reaches for me again, pressing her lips tentatively back to mine. It’s the sweetest kiss, barely there at all, but I force myself to sit still and take it—this slow torture of Raelynn building her confidence. She turns her body toward me more and my hand curves around her thigh, tightening as she leans in and kisses me harder. It burns through my body, turning me on, making it so damn difficult to keep to my side of the car. Her tongue dips into my mouth, slow and seductive.