by KL Donn
Hi, it’s Megan. Would love to have dinner. Meet you in the lobby at six-thirty?
I’m surprised when my phone beeps only a minute later, my heart ricocheting against my chest as I read his text, unable to contain my excitement as I hop in place.
See you then. Can’t wait.
6
“I told you she would say yes.” Doug states with supreme confidence from over my shoulder.
“What the fuck, dude?” I throw a harsh look behind me. “Stop reading my damn texts.” I turn around so he can’t see what I’m writing back to Megan, shielding my phone from his view until after I hit send. “A little privacy please?”
“I bet it was the roses.” Doug continues, undeterred. “Chicks love when you send them flowers.”
“It was my idea to send the roses, not yours asshole.” I remind him.
“So, where you going to take her?” Still ignoring my defense in the role he played in setting up this date, he walks beside me as we leave the locker room. “Home to meet mom and dad?”
I stop in my tracks. “I met her last night man. Don’t think we’re quite there yet.” I shake my head and start walking again. “I was thinking more along the lines of The Palm for a nice steak.”
“Does she eat meat?” He bursts out laughing at the double meaning of his question, then stops abruptly when he sees the look I’m throwing his way. “I’m just saying, some of the girls these days are vegan or vegetarian or whatever the trend is.”
“I’ve got it covered, thanks.” I reach the bus back to the hotel and climb on board, finding a seat next to a window. I pull my headphones on, effectively ending any further conversation on the subject with Doug. I actually don’t have much covered. I wasn’t even sure Megan would want to see me again, so I hadn’t thought about where to take her until Doug brought it up. I do like the Palm though.
I bring up a text session on my phone and draft a message to my personal assistant asking her if she can make a reservation at the Palm and secure a car service for me. She responds within seconds letting me know she’ll take care of everything. Can’t complain about having an assistant. Definitely takes the hassle out of everything for me. I’m about to close my eyes and relax for the rest of the ride, but snap to attention, thinking I should probably send Megan a text letting her know where I’m taking her. I know she’s here on a business trip and have no idea if she’s got the proper clothes for dinner out. Not that I didn’t like her in the jeans she had on last night, especially with the commando game she was sporting. But I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable if I brought her some place she didn’t have an outfit for. I may not know much, but I know this much from having a younger sister.
I bring up a new text window for her, type, delete, type and delete again, then finally send my last attempt to sound somewhat cool and aloof:
Made reservations at The Palm for 7. Unless you want some place more casual?
I reread the message at least seven times after I send it, hoping it doesn’t sound too pretentious, and start to worry when she doesn’t text back right away. I crank up the music on my headphones, hoping to drown out some of the doubt ringing in my head. I practically jump out of my seat when the text alert sounds, my nerves coiled tight as a rattlesnake as I was trying to pretend I was being patient. I swipe my screen to read the message, smiling in relief when I see what she’s written.
The Palm sounds perfect. See you soon. Xo
When we get back to the hotel, I head right to my room. I’m in luck because Doug’s going to watch game tapes with some of the other guys, so I’ve got the place to myself. All I want to do is take a nap before tonight. One, I’m tired as hell from practice today. Two, I only got about five hours of solid sleep last night. And three, I’m hoping I get even less tonight.
Last night was the first time in a really long time that I connected with a woman on a personal level. Which made our physical connection that much more intimate and intense, a definite bonus. Finding a woman to keep my bed warm hasn’t been a problem since I was in college, but finding one I actually enjoyed being with was rare. I thought I had possibly found that with my last girlfriend, but the more time I spent with her, the more I came to realize she only showed me what was needed to keep her on my arm and in the spotlight. Megan barely realized who my damn team was, let alone me. Which was pretty damn nice. I wanted someone genuine and real without having to worry about whether or not they were interested in me, and not the fame that came from being around me.
I already took a shower back at the locker room, so I change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my eyes focusing on the whiskers framing most of my lower face. I grasp a handful of the growth in my fingers, and contemplate shaving it for just a moment, then shake my head. I can’t do it, even though there’s a huge part of me that wants to. I’d like to show Megan the cleaner, smoother version of myself, and not the grizzly bear I’ve become with the beard, but superstition wins this decision hands down. I leave the bathroom, place a wake-up call, and then climb into the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
It’s six-twenty, and I’m pacing in the lobby, even though I’m early and have no reason to be nervous. I know she’s going to show up, and I know without a doubt we’ll have a good time because being with her is just easy. When a group of people flood into the lobby, I wander into a far corner of the space, wanting to stay out of the public eye in case I’m recognized. The last thing I want tonight is to be mobbed, especially when I’m with Megan. While it’s flattering and I love my fans, it can be overwhelming when a hundred people or more surround you like a caged animal.
I’m facing the window, my back to the room as an extra ounce of protection against being recognized, but still feel it when she steps off the elevator and glides into the room. It’s not the clicking of heels, or even her scent, but a current of energy that seems to find and pull me in her direction. I spin around, seeing her before she sees me, and I’m glad. I want this stolen moment to admire how stunning she looks. She’s wearing a short black dress that gathers in a collar around her neck, leaving her arms exposed. Her legs are bare except for the swish of fabric against her upper thighs as she turns in a slow circle, black heels strapped to her feet, as she scans the room. What gets me though is her hair. She’s left it down, and as she turns her back to me, I notice it falls almost to her waist. Its golden color shimmers like smooth silk in the soft lights of the lobby, causing everything below my waist to react as I remember how the strands felt across my naked chest the night before.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my pants in an attempt to hide the effect she has on me, then stride toward her. Her cheeks lift when she notices me, her smile lighting up her face, my own mouth breaking into a grin in response. She begins walking, closing the distance between us quickly as we meet in the middle. As if I’d done it a hundred times, my hand snakes around her waist to pull her close, my lips brushing against her cheek before I whisper in her ear. “You look beautiful.”
She surprises me when instead of stepping away, leans into me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to hug me, the hair vibrating against my neck when she hums in appreciation. “You smell so good.”
I tighten my arm around her waist to mold her body into mine, her head under my nose. “So do you.” At this rate, we’re not even going to make it out of the hotel, never mind dinner. My dick throbs between us when her other hand slides under my suit jacket to grip onto the back of my shirt.
“Happy to see me?” She giggles, her breath warm on the skin of my neck.
“Extremely.” I confess, the bulge in my pants a dead giveaway. I push back gently, taking the hand that’s around my waist into my own. “And if we don’t leave now, we won’t be making it to dinner.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m starving.” Her eyes peek up at me from under her lashes, her cheeks flushing a light pink when she continues. “But I know what I want for dessert.”
&nbs
p; My cock jerks, and I shift, pulling her with me as I lead us to the exit of the lobby. “You might just be too good to be true.” My voice a rough growl.
“I was thinking the exact same thing.” She laughs, her body swaying into mine as we walk through the door. The car I ordered is waiting, the driver opening the back door as I steer her towards it. She turns her face to mine. “Is that for us?”
“Mr. Chase.” The driver nods to me, then address us both, answering her question for me. “I’m Henry, and will be your driver for tonight.”
“I guess that answers that.” She smiles at me as I assist her into the seat. “Thank you.”
Henry closes her door, and we both move to the other side of the vehicle, each opening our own doors before we settle into our respective seats. As I relax next to her, I slide my hand across the gap between us to her lap, entwining my fingers over hers, noticing how small and delicate her hand is compared to mine.
“The Palm, sir?” Henry asks from the front of the car as he pulls away from the hotel and into traffic.
“Please.” I confirm, then turn my attention to Megan. “I know I already said it once, but you really do look beautiful.”
“So do you. I mean--” Her eyes sweep over my body, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she shifts a little closer to me. “You look quite handsome.”
I glance down at my frame covered in a dark suit, made more casual by wearing a fitted black sweater instead of a dress shirt, then laugh out loud as I realize we’re both dressed entirely in black. “We look like we’re going to a funeral instead of dinner.”
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Laughter spills from her parted smile as she nods. “It’s the only non-worky thing I had with me, besides the jeans I wore last night, and I think those were a bit too casual.”
“You’re perfect.” I assure her. “Black is always a fashion statement, right?”
“Can never go wrong with a little black dress.” She shrugs, her expression turning more serious as her gaze meets mine. “Or thirty long-stemmed-roses.” Her fingers squeeze lightly around mine. “Thank you for them. I don’t think I’ve ever been more surprised or touched.”
“It was my pleasure.” I lift her hand to my mouth, pressing a kiss against the back of it before returning it to her lap. “Sorry I had to leave before you woke up.”
“You really don’t need to apologize. I know you had a curfew, and practice.” She shifts her body a fraction closer to me, lowering her voice. “And you know, there were no expectations. We picked each other up in a bar. We had amazing sex. It is what it is.”
I stare at her, not saying anything for a few moments as I think about how I want to reply to her statement. Yeah, we were strangers who picked each other up. Yeah, we had some pretty mind-blowing sex. And yeah, that usually is the scenario for a great one night stand. And I know I could have left it at that. But I also know I would have regretted it if I did. One night with her wasn’t enough. I thought about her all day and wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know what her favorite color, television show, foods, drinks and places were. I wanted to know what made her laugh out loud, or what made her really angry. I wanted to know if she usually slept with her hair up, or did she leave it loose. And I really wanted to know if she sounded the same moaning my name in the morning, as she did at night. But telling her all this would surely have her sprinting in the other direction, so I keep silent.
She lets go of my hand to adjust the hem of her dress, her eyes darting out the window and away from me, and I realize I’ve paused a little too long. “One night with you definitely isn’t enough.”
Her eyes sweep back to mine, relief evident in the soft gaze of her indigo eyes as her fingers weave through mine once more. I use this connection to tug her body closer, tilting my head to close the remaining distance between us so I can slide my lips over hers. My other hand moves to cup her cheek, our kiss deepening as I angle her head back, a small gasp sounding when I finally pull away from her. I keep my face close to hers when I speak, wanting to be sure that she not only hears what I’m saying, but understands it as well. “It is what it is.”
Before she can respond, Henry’s voice fills the vehicle. “We’ve arrived Mr. Chase.”
7
Holy shit. This guy is saying all the right things. Doing all the right things. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. But what am I doing? He’s a professional football player. Who lives in a different city than I do. And probably has a girl like me in each city he travels to. I can’t let myself get sucked into feeling anything for him, but I’m not sure if I can resist it either. New York and Massachusetts aren’t really that far apart from each other after all. I suppose it’s possible this could turn into something more. I shake my head to dismiss my own thoughts, turning my attention to the door that’s just swung open beside me.
I take the hand he’s extending, and step out of the town car onto a sidewalk. His hand immediately slides around my waist, gathering me close, erasing any thoughts I have about where this is going. All I want is to enjoy the here and now, which includes how amazing it feels when he holds me possessively like this; like he’s protecting me from the world.
I’m startled a second later when flashbulbs explode to the left of us, Jasper’s arm tightening as he hauls me even closer to him as he mumbles so only I can hear. “Sorry.”
“Jasper, who’s your date?”
“What happened to Poppy?”
“Mr. Chase, do you think the Patriots will play another super bowl?”
Questions are fired at him as he uses his body to shield me as he guides us into the safety and quiet of the restaurant where a hostess is standing in wait. “I’m so sorry Mr. Chase.” She sweeps an arm out, ushering us further into the entry way of the restaurant. Jasper’s arm stays locked around me, but relaxes now that we’re inside. “We try to keep the press at a distance, but unfortunately, they sit in wait like vultures for anyone that might show up for dinner with us.”
“It’s fine.” He glances in my direction, his mouth in a tight line, looking at me as if he wants some kind of confirmation. I nod, spots still hindering my vision as I try and blink them away.
“We have a private table ready for you.” The hostess starts to walk, still speaking. “We put you upstairs where it will be much quieter.”
“You okay?” Jasper tilts his head closer to mine as we follow where we’re led. “I should have warned you. It happens sometimes at places like this.”
I nod again, still tongue-tied as my brain digests what just happened, specifically the part about Poppy. Who the hell is Poppy? I want to ask him, but figure I really don’t have any right to at this point in our, whatever you want to label this as, relationship? We’re climbing up a set of stairs now, so I focus on those instead, not wanting to trip in my heels. I stay silent as we make our way down a long hall, finally turning into a small room, when we reach the end of it. There are only four tables in the quaint space, but only one of them is set, which has me heaving a sigh of relief I wasn’t even aware I was holding.
“You’ll have all the privacy you need in here Mr. Chase.” The hostess finally stops moving, a wave of her arm sweeping in an arc across the room. “We’ll not seat anyone else in here.” She points to the table that’s been set. “Please, get comfortable.” She turns to leave, still talking. “Roger, your server, will be with you in just a moment.”
He guides me to the finely set table, the warmth of his body moving away from me as he releases his hold to pull out a chair for me. I lower myself as gracefully as I can, crossing my ankles under the table when he scoots the chair under my bottom. He takes the seat next to me, rather than the one across from me, his hand covering mine as he sits. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
My eyes drift up to his, the corners crinkled as he assesses me with concern. “I promise, I’m fine.” I smile, trying to reassure him with more than just words. “Is it like that a lot?”
“It depends.” He shrugs. “Som
etimes we let the press know when I’m going to be somewhere because we’re looking for the publicity. And in those instances, I don’t mind cause I’m expecting it.” He frowns then, his fingers sliding through mine to grip them more tightly. “But when it’s in situations like this, it sucks. Not going to lie.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I was only blind for about thirty seconds after we got here.”
“Now you know why we are always wearing sunglasses.” He lets out a short laugh. “It’s not because we’re trying to look cool.”
“Who’s Poppy?” I blurt out, my curiosity getting the better of me, even though I know I might not like the answer. I feel my cheeks heat as I shift in my chair, sliding my hand out from his to fold it in my lap. I lift my eyes up to his, the soft buttery color seeming to darken as I wait for his reply.
“Poppy McAdams.” He’s quiet for a second, then continues when he realizes hearing her name means nothing to me. “She’s someone I dated.”
“But not anymore?”
“No, not anymore.” He leans toward me, clearing his throat like he’s about to say more, but then shifts back suddenly, his focus shifting over my shoulder.
“Good evening, sir.” A sharp dressed waiter appears on my left, inclining his head in my direction. “Miss.”
“Hello.” Jasper and I respond in unison. I think we’re both happy with the interruption.
“I’m Roger, and will be at your service this evening.” He lays two hand written menus on our place settings, then speaks again. “Would you like a wine menu, or perhaps a cocktail instead?”
Jasper turns his attention to me, a wide smile breaking across his face. “A bottle of Veuve?”