“I’m good,” I repeat, more firmly this time. “I have to call my girlfriend.”
Their eyes widen, and one leans in. “Well, she’d never have to know about anything.”
The elevator pings open, and I don’t hesitate. I slip out, forcing a polite smile. “You ladies have a wonderful night. Oh, and have you met Nicklas? He’s down in the bar. I’m sure he’d love a massage.” Their faces light up with mischief as the doors close behind me, and I shake my head, muttering under my breath. Some things never change.
I head to my room, key card in hand, heart still hammering. Inside, I toss my gear onto the chair and fish my phone out of my pocket. The urge to call Rowyn is almost unbearable, but the clock glows beside the bed: eleven here, one in the morning back home. Yeah…no way.
I’m about to toss my phone onto the bed in frustration when something catches my eye—a few messages blinking on the screen. My heart jumps, chest tight. They must have come in while I was downstairs.
I check my ringer—off, of course—and my pulse quickens as I open them.
Rowyn.
* * *
Rowyn: Great game, Lumber-Jax.
* * *
I chuckle softly and sink deeper into the wingback chair by the window, phone in hand, reading her second message.
* * *
Rowyn: I’m guessing you’re asleep after the game. I stayed up in case you wanted to talk. I hope my messages aren’t waking you.
* * *
I hit dial, heart picking up pace, and a second later her soft, sleepy voice drifts through the receiver, threading warmth straight through my chest. I kick off my shoes and settle further into the chair, letting the exhaustion from the day wash over me. But even now, there’s nothing I’d rather do than hear her voice.
“Hey…sorry I missed your texts. My ringer was off,” I murmur.
“I’m not catching you at a bad time, am I?” I hear the subtle rustle of sheets on her end, and it sends an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“Not at all. What are you still doing up?”
“Isn’t chatting when you’re on the road part of the deal?”
Right.
Shit.
That’s what I get for reading too much into this.
“I was worried my bed wasn’t comfortable,” I joke wishing I was there with her.
Her laugh, low and sexy, ripples through the line like a caress. “It’s comfortable, it’s just…”
I tilt my head, a beat of silence passing. “Just what?”
Her reply is quiet, but it lands like a blow to my chest. “You’re not in it.”
My heart lurches and I grab a water bottle, cracking it open and swallowing greedily, trying to calm the sudden heat rising in my veins.
“Jax?” she murmurs, her voice edged with something soft. Worry, maybe.
I force a casual tone, unwilling to let myself read too much into her words, unwilling to let my own heart betray me. “Sorry…needed a drink. Dry throat.” A breathy exhale from her, and I add quickly, “I wish I was there with you too.”
“I loved watching you play tonight. I wish I could have been there to cheer you on.” Her words tumble out softly, intimate and teasing, and I feel a tug in my chest I can’t ignore.