“Your teammates. What about them?”
I couldn’t speak now, so I nodded.
Her eyes. God, I could hardly meet her eyes because of how they burned. Ripped straight through all the pretense and all the bullshit and all the things I didn’t want her to see.
Little by little, they softened. Her mouth did, too, shifting from a firm line into something else entirely. Remi Sinclair had the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen. The fact that I’d never kissed it was an absolute fucking tragedy.
“What about me?” she whispered.
My eyes snapped to hers. “You?”
“What about me? You wanted my attention and you got it, didn’t you?”
The seat belt around my chest was strangling me, making it hard to breathe, so I tore at the latch, turning slightly to face her. “Did I?”
“Don’t play dumb, Archer, it doesn’t suit you.” Her gaze was unrelenting. “You know you have it.”
The moment got away from me, far too big to be contained in this small, unassuming car. But instead of running from it, I let the unknown settle in my chest and just tried to breathe.
In and out. Each breath was filled with Remi—clean and sweet and mouthwatering.
Before I’d even realized it, she was everywhere. Everything. And I had a desperate, clawing urge to rebuild my life with her at the center. Exactly the kind of grandiose statement that would send her screaming in the other direction.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, emotion making her voice shake.
She was asking me to hand over my heart on a platter, something I’d never done. Not for anyone.
Even if it was stupid and I’d torture myself over it later, I reached out and slid my hands under hers, dragging the tips of my fingers underneath Remi’s until they curled up, a helpless response to the featherlight touch that I couldn’t resist. She stared down at our hands as our fingers twined together, her chest rising and falling when I didn’t pull away.
I held my answer until she finally raised her head and met my gaze.
“Would you believe me if I told you?”
At the gruffly stated question, torn straight from my chest, she sucked in a sharp breath, her exhale coming out in an equally harsh punch.
“I don’t know.” Carefully, she removed her hands from mine, covering her mouth with visibly trembling fingers. “I don’t know.”
It was so easy to think about what I wanted from Remi.
I wanted to take her out on a date.
I wanted to make her smile.
I wanted to kiss her in the morning when her hair was crazy and she hadn’t had coffee yet.
I wanted to take her to bed and figure out all the things that made her moan.
I wanted to fuck her.
I wanted to make love to her.
I wanted to see her in the stands, wearing my jersey, and know she was mine.
I wanted to be someone her son could look up to.
I wanted to tell her that I was falling in love with her, and it scared me more than anything ever had.
And more than anything, I wanted a chance.