Catching the Player (Hamilton Family)

by Diane Alberts

  Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still clutching her toe. Ever since Wyatt had stormed into her life and spent the night with her without sex, she’d been a different woman. She’d held true to her promise that she’d be better. Take chances.

  A visit to the hairdresser had given her that strawberry blond she’d always wanted in her hair, and she’d mastered that spin class she’d been eyeing up for months. Yoga was now a favorite of hers at her gym, and on a whim, she’d even done some Zumba. Last night, when a friend she hadn’t seen in three months invited her to dinner last minute, she’d said yes.

  These things might be small, and to some they might even seem silly, but they were changes. And change was just what the doctor ordered.

  Smiling, she remembered what his note had said.

  Kass,

  Tonight was incredible, and I’m glad I could help, in any small way, in your journey to shake things up. Make sure you take those chances. You deserve everything good in your life. You deserve to be happy. Never forget that—and I’ll never forget my promise to you.

  Wyatt

  Well, she’d been doing her best to follow through with that, and she’d been doing a good job…up until the stupid hutch got stuck on the floorboard, anyway. Oh well. Guess it would stay there until she could con her brother into coming over and helping her. Not a huge deal. No big changes ever came easily, right? Opening her eyes, she pushed off the wall and headed to her phone. As she picked it up, she saw a notification from ESPN on the screen.

  The name in the title made her breath catch in her throat.

  The Savior’s Wyatt Hamilton says he’ll play this Sunday, despite recent injury and rumors that Coach Jeffries would have him sit out until playoffs.

  Swiping over the notification, she skimmed the article, smiling when he was quoted to say, “I’d hate to mess up anyone’s running bets, so if you’re counting on me not playing this weekend, you’d better cancel those bets before it’s too late. I’ll be there, and my arm will be as strong as ever.”

  Chuckling, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle hello to her.

  Heck, she chose to believe it was, because she could. Even if it wasn’t, she’d never find out, because it’s not like he was calling her anytime soon to set the matter straight.

  And she was fine with that. With never finding out if he was thinking about her, or if he remembered her as fondly as she did him.

  Closing out the app, she opened up her texts with Caleb and fired one off: I need help.

  What did you do now?

  She typed back immediately, checking the time. I was rearranging my living room, and the hutch got jammed on a floorboard. I can’t move it, no matter how hard I push.

  Ugh. Fine. I’ll be by in two hours. Followed by: But you’ll owe me pizza and beer.

  She bit her lip. I can’t do two hours from now.

  Why not?

  Should she tell him the truth? I have a date.

  WITH WHO?

  No one you would know.

  Heck, she’d never even met the dude. She’d matched with him on eHarmony. All she knew was he was twenty-seven, an accountant like her, and he wore a suit well, if his profile pic was to be believed. She’d never gone a date with a stranger before, especially not someone she met on the internet, but it was all part of her change.

  What’s his name? How’d you meet? What does he do for a living?

  Rolling her eyes, she started to type back a reply telling him it was none of his frigging business, but then her doorbell rang. Frowning, she set the phone down and made her way to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and her friends weren’t really the “stop by unannounced” type, so she couldn’t imagine who might be here.

  Unless…

  It was Caleb.

  If he’d zoomed over here from his place down the street simply because she’d mentioned having a date later, he’d taken the overbearing brother role to a whole new level. Pushing her glasses into place, she swung the door open, expecting to see her annoying brother standing there…and instead got the surprise of her life.

  Wyatt Hamilton.

  On her doorstep.

  Not speaking, she tried to figure it out. Why was he here? What did he want? Had he forgotten something? Was he lost? In danger? Escaping paparazzi? She craned her neck, glancing behind him, but there were no cameras and no signs of danger chasing him.

  When she remained silent, he lifted a hand, smiling that same devastatingly charming smile that had haunted her in her dreams and her bed for the past three nights. “Hey, Kass.”

  “Uh…” She desperately smoothed her horribly messy hair. It was useless. She hadn’t been expecting company, and it showed. God, it showed. “Hi?”

  That smile that widened. “Is that a question?”

  “Um, yes?” She laughed a little. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? Did you forget something? I mean, I didn’t see anything, but you’re free to check—”

  “I didn’t forget anything,” he said, studying her with a slight frown. “But you told me if I ever wanted someone to hang out with, to spend time with…”

  “Oh. Oh. Right.”

  Holy crap, he was actually taking her up on that offer?

  He hesitated. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Huh? No.” She pursed her lips. “Why?”

  He rubbed his hard jaw. He had a bit of a five o’clock shadow going, and his dark blond hair was sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it. He wore a Saviors T-shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, a pair of black sweats that hugged other things, aviator sunglasses, and a pair of Nikes. Sweats had never been so sexy before. “You’re all sweaty. Is someone here with you? I can go…”

  “Oh. That.” She glanced at herself. She, too, was wearing sweats, but not nearly so sexily. Sexy? Sexy-ish? What the heck was the word? Oh, who cared anyway? Wyatt Hamilton was here, on her doorstep, with hungry eyes. “No. I’m all alone. What about you? Are you alone?”

  What a stupid question.

  She could see he was alone.

  Good one. Way to charm him.

  “Yeah, I’m alone.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just left practice. I was driving home, and realized how close I was to you, so I figured I’d stop by and see how you were doing on that promise you made me.”

  Funny, he hadn’t mentioned he’d be stopping by in his letter to her. Actually, that letter had seemed like a pretty solid good-bye to her. “Oh, well, I…uh…” She laughed nervously. “I’m good.”

  “Good,” he said, shifting his weight to his left foot.

  “How are you?” she added hastily.

  “Good. Good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Just the usual. Sleep. Protein. Practice. You know.”

  She nodded, even though she didn’t. “Yeah. Sure.”

  They both fell silent.

  After a while, he cleared his throat.

  The awkwardness between them was tangible enough to bottle and sell. “Did you, uh, have a good practice?”

  “Yeah, it was a tough one, but we needed that to be ready for the Giants. We had double practice time all week long.”

  “Ugh,” she muttered. Last time the teams had played one another, the Saviors had lost by fifteen points. “You’re playing, right?”

  “Yeah.” He rotated his shoulder. He’d injured it a few weeks ago when DeMarquez had taken him down too hard. “I’m fine. They worry too much.”

  “You seemed fine last week,” she said under her breath, heat flushing through her as she remembered all the ways he’d lifted, twisted, and turned during yoga.

  He laughed. “Better than fine, even.”

  “Well…” They locked eyes. “I’d hope so.”

  “Have you been keeping your promises?” He rocked back on his heels again. “Living life to its fullest, and taking chances?”

  “I have.” She gestured down at hersel
f. “Hence the sweatiness.”

  “What were you doing?” he asked curiously.

  She rested her shoulder on the doorjamb. “I decided to change the layout of my living room for the first time since moving in here.”

  “Wow. Crazy,” he said wryly. “We might need to talk about toning it back a little bit. You’re taking this whole living life to its fullest thing a little too far.”

  She smacked his arm playfully. “Hey, considering I measured each piece and placed it perfectly in position five years ago, it is crazy. For me, anyway.”

  “I’m kidding.” He gave her a half smile. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen before. “Can I see it?”

  “What?” She glanced over her shoulder. “My living room?”

  “Yeah.”

  She bit her lip. “Why would you want to see my rearranged living room?”

  “Why not? I can think of worse ways for a guy like me to spend my afternoon.” He laughed uneasily and dragged a hand through his hair. “In case you couldn’t tell by my awkwardness earlier, I don’t know what I’m doing here, or why I’m here, but I am because I couldn’t keep driving. That might be bad, or it might be good, but whatever the hell it is, I want to see you, so I’m here. Seeing you. Because I missed you, Kass. And I never miss anyone.”

  He missed her. She held her breath, a million things racing through her mind, but she couldn’t catch a single one. The thoughts were too fast. Too fleeting. Too… “In that case, would you like to come in and see my messy living room?”

  He laughed. Short. Hard. “Yes, I’d like to see your living room.”

  “Then, please, come inside.”

  She stepped back, and he brushed past her, a whiff of cologne and sunshine teasing her senses. His smell was somehow familiar and comforting, even though she’d only smelled it one other time. Of course, that had been the best night of her life, so maybe that made sense. Maybe that’s why smelling him made her let out a sigh of relief that she’d been holding in for three days.

  It certainly wasn’t relief that he’d come back to her.

  This meant nothing. They meant nothing.

  And she’d best remember that.

  Chapter Nine

  Clearly, Wyatt had no clue what the hell he was doing anymore. He’d been fine. He’d been great. He’d been at practice, doing his own thing, not missing anyone or anything at all, but the second he pulled out of the parking lot, he’d gone back to the place he’d been every second of every day since the moment he walked away from Kassidy Thomas—he’d been in his head, with her, wanting her, missing her.

  She was all he could think about.

  All he dreamed about.

  Hell, he even swore he smelled her every time he woke up in the morning, but when he opened his eyes…she, of course, was never there. She was just a memory of a night he’d shared with a woman that he couldn’t forget, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that.

  He’d never wanted more than one night.

  Never ached for a woman so badly it messed with his head.

  So, as he’d been driving home to crash on his couch with a beer and some old Giants games he planned to binge on so he could study Manning, he’d been unable to ignore the fact that there might be a glaring solution to his little problem: he just needed to see her again.

  One more night with her. One more time sharing secrets and laughs.

  Then he’d be healed of the hold she had over him.

  There was no other answer to his dilemma.

  “I can’t wait to see…” As he walked into her house, he faded off. The weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders since the moment he’d left her sleeping alone in her bed lifted, and he smiled when he caught sight of her living room. Furniture was pushed away from all the walls haphazardly, and there was no rhyme or reason. Her living room looked like it had been arranged by a blindfolded three-year-old. “It’s, uh”—he rubbed his jaw and laughed—“great.”

  She rolled her eyes at him again. He’d never found eye-rolling so adorable until he met her. “This isn’t how I’m leaving it.”

  “Good. Because this isn’t living your life to its fullest.”

  A laugh-snort escaped her. “I wanted this,” she touched the hutch in the middle of the living room, then went to a bare spot on the wall. “to be over here, but it got stuck.”

  He walked around it, rubbing his chin. “I see that. Want some help?”

  “I asked Caleb to help me,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink as she adjusted her red-rimmed glasses. “He said he’d be by later to do it.”

  “Well, I’m here now, so why wait for him when you don’t have to?” He went behind the furniture, tugged it back effortlessly from the planks where it had been wedged, then started pushing it to where she stood. “Watch out, short stuff.”

  She bolted out of the way, her eyes wide. “How are you moving that so easily?”

  “Lots of weight lifting and throwing balls around.” He pushed it where she wanted it to go and wiped off his hands. “This is nothing.”

  “I see that,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “All those muscles at work again.”

  “You’re kind of obsessed with my muscles,” he teased.

  She blinked. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at them.”

  He laughed, saying nothing.

  As he moved the furniture, a random thought popped into his head. “Did your ex ever live here with you?”

  “N-No.” She hugged herself. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.” For some reason, the idea of that man being in this house with her annoyed him. Inexplicably, he wanted to be the only man here. “What did he do for a living?”

  “He didn’t. He was in school. Still is in law school, last I heard.” She crossed her arms. “He used to dream of being on the Supreme Court. It was part of our plan. First graduation. Then marriage. Then kids. Then the world. He had no doubt he’d be able to get there, too. He had connections.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Yet another entitled asshole.”

  “Pretty much,” she said.

  “My brother is a lawyer.”

  “I’m sorry,” she immediately said.

  He laughed. “Nah, he’s not too bad. He lives in a small town and mostly works with business owners and old people.”

  “Is that Eric? The one who moved for a girl?”

  “Yes,” he said, impressed she remembered that. “What’s next?”

  “Huh?”

  He pointed at the couch that was diagonal and blocking the entrance to the kitchen. “Want me to move that, or do you like it there?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” She stepped aside and crinkled her nose. “Over there, under the window, please?”

  Without replying, he moved her couch where she wanted it. He stopped at the table that had been behind the couch and cocked an eyebrow. “What about this?”

  She pointed, and he picked it up, since it was light, setting it into place. When he turned back around to face her, her mouth was parted and her eyes slightly glossy as she focused on his arms. His response was immediate, and he took a step toward her without realizing it.

  Letting out a small breath, she cleared her throat. “Uh, all that’s left is that loveseat.”

  He glanced at the object in question, his pants a hell of a lot tighter than they’d been moments before because he was picturing exactly what he’d like to do to her on that loveseat.

  Damn it.

  He took another step closer to her, but then made himself stop. Nothing had changed. He still couldn’t give her a relationship, and still wasn’t willing to jeopardize his career over a woman. But she’d sworn to him she would never ask him for more than he was willing to give, and he knew exactly what she meant by that. If he took her up on her offer, she would give herself to him, and ask for nothing in return. She would be his.

  “Where’s it going?” he asked, walking over to it, his voice thick.

  She pointed. Her finger trembled sli
ghtly. “There.”

  Bending over, he moved the loveseat easily. Her eyes were on him the whole time, and he’d swear she did more than look. He’d been with a lot of women, liked a lot of women, but he’d never been so attuned to a person that he could tell they were watching him. But with her, he could.

  What did that mean?

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “You’re welcome.” He rubbed his chin and surveyed his handiwork. The couch was slightly off center. He walked over to it, pushed it, and then nodded. “There. Perfect.”

  “Yeah, it is,” she said immediately.

  Something told him she wasn’t talking about the couch.

  “Do you want something? Coffee? A beer? Water?” She jerkily shoved her hair behind her ears. “I mean, it’s the least I can do for your help.”

  “Hmm.” He walked toward her slowly, watching her as he drew closer. She sucked in a deep breath and lifted a foot, but didn’t back up. “I’d love a beer.”

  “Sure.” She headed into the kitchen, and he followed her. They passed a framed picture with her, her brother, and her parents in it. She was smiling, but it didn’t seem real. She opened the fridge, bent over, and pulled out a Budweiser. “Thank you, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said from directly behind her.

  She gasped and turned around, glancing up at him. She was only a couple of inches away. That was a couple of inches too many, to his thinking. His heart pounded against his ribs, and even though he should keep his hands to himself, he reached out to touch her cheek. It was as soft as he remembered. He’d missed her.

  Everything about her.

  Trembling, she held out the cold beer. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He twisted the lid off and tossed it on the counter. “Are you joining me to celebrate the finished job?”

  She shook her head, not backing up, but not moving closer, either. Her gaze fell to his jaw, oddly enough, and she swallowed hard. “No, thank you. But if I can ever repay the favor somehow…”

  “Actually, now that you mention it?” He took a swallow of the beer, letting it roll down his throat and cool him off a bit. Around her, he was always too hot.

  She rubbed her arms. “Yeah?” she asked, her voice breathy.