I signed the napkin without encouraging her. “That’s nice of you.”
“My friends and I are going out after this.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “You should give me your number. I can show you a really good time while you’re in town.”
I lived in Dallas, but that was not the point. The point was that her attention crawled over my skin in a way that made me want to step back. It wasn’t her fault, not really. She was young and bold and probably used to men reacting exactly how she wanted them to. Years ago, maybe I would have been flattered. After everything with my ex, after Monique, after Isla, after a decade of building walls around my life, that kind of attention only made me tired.
“No, thank you,” I said, handing the napkin back. “Have a good night, though.”
Her smile slipped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
I looked up. CC was watching from the booth. She had turned just enough to see the interaction, her expression unreadable, her fingers wrapped around her iced tea. For some reason, that made the whole thing feel worse. I nodded once to the fans and headed back to the table.
The food arrived a minute later, filling the table with plates and steam and enough distraction to make me grateful.
Cole glanced at my plate. “I remember the healthy days.”
Holland swatted his arm. “Leave him alone.”
“He’s at a barbecue place eating salmon,” Cole noted.
“I respect his discipline,” Holland said.
Cole grinned at me. “She used to say that about me.”
“I still do,” Holland said.
Jaden pointed a rib at me. “What does it feel like to be famous?”
“Ask your dad,” I said. “He’s famous too.”
Jaden glanced at Cole, then shrugged. “He’s my dad, so it’s different.”
Cole clutched his chest. “That hurt.”
CC laughed, and the sound moved through me before I could stop it. Dinner followed an easy rhythm after that, with Jaden keeping a running commentary on everything from hockey camp to why mac and cheese counted as a vegetable because pasta came from wheat and wheat came from the ground. Holland corrected him without missing a beat. Cole talked through the rookies CC would meet.
CC listened with her whole attention, asking smart questions, her expression focused and bright. This was the part of her I could admire safely, or at least more safely. The part thatwas brilliant and driven and clearly made for this work. She was a woman building a career, and I could see both of her parents in her. Cole’s intensity. Holland’s precision. Her own quiet fire underneath both. That should have made me want her less.
By the time dinner ended, I was exhausted from the effort of not looking at her too much. Outside, the evening sky was turning purple over the parking lot. We said goodbye near the cars, only to realize we were all heading to the same building in the city. Cole and Holland kept a condo there for convenience during the season and for the kids’ school and activities. I lived in the same building several floors below, which usually felt practical and neighborly. Tonight, it felt like the universe had a sick sense of humor.
The drive back was quiet. I called Quinn through the car speakers because Isla had basically assigned it as homework, but my sister didn’t answer, which left me alone with my thoughts and the echo of CC’s laugh. At the building, we rode the elevator up together. Cole and Holland talked about camp. Jaden leaned against the wall, half-asleep from ribs and sugar. CC stood across from me, one hand wrapped around the strap of her bag. The diamond at her navel was hidden now by the way her tank had settled, which did absolutely nothing to help because my brain already knew it was there. The elevator stopped on my floor first.
I stepped out and turned back. “Night.”
“Night,” Holland said gently.
CC’s eyes met mine for one charged second.
“Good night, Hunter,” she said.
My name in her voice followed me all the way down the hall. Inside my condo, the silence hit hard. No Isla’s shoes by the door. I dropped my keys in the bowl by the door and stood there, listening to nothing. For ten years, everything had revolved around Isla. Practices, games, travel, meals, rest,choices, women I didn’t date, risks I didn’t take. I had never regretted that. But with her gone for two weeks and CC Davis suddenly under my skin, I felt like someone had taken the structure of my life and shaken it hard enough to loosen bolts I hadn’t even known were there. I pulled out my phone and called Quinn again. Voicemail.
“Traitor,” I muttered.
The condo felt too small for my body and too big for my thoughts. I changed into workout shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed my headphones, and headed back out. The building gym was three floors down. I needed to move and sweat. I needed to exhaust myself until I stopped seeing CC in the shower, or in a yellow bikini, or watching me turn down a woman who had offered me something easy when it wasn’t easy that I wanted. What tempted me was impossible.
And that was exactly why I needed to run until I forgot her name. The problem was, by the time I stepped into the empty gym and started the treadmill, I already knew there was no chance in hell that was going to happen because CC walked up to the gym door wearing a gray sports bra and black short shorts, her brown hair in a high ponytail.