Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

“Hey, handsome,” she says. The obvious excitement in her eyes, her dimples, her voice—I’m not imagining it.

It’s real. As real as the things I feel for her.

She holds out her arms and I wordlessly pull her into mine and curl her close. She melts into me. This level of touch and trust is new.

My body roars to life. Warmth spreading through my skin. Pooling between my legs.

Noooooo boner. No.

She’s wearing perfume tonight. Something sexy.

I press a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, Gracie girl,” I say gruffly.

Gracie pulls back, brow furrowed. “You okay?”

Nah, I want to say. Pretty sure you just took my heart without asking, and now you’re free to do whatever you want with it. Play with it. Crush it. Eat it.

I shake my head, unable to reply for a full beat.

“You look beautiful,” I manage at last.

She smiles with her eyes. “So do you. Thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for invitin’ me.” My eyes flick to the door behind her. “What kinda party is this anyway?”

Gracie tucks her little purse thing underneath her arm. “It’s an alumni event for my business school. We have events once a quarter or so—they’re really fun, and a great way to connect with people doing all kinds of cool stuff in the city.”

My pulse thumps. Part of me is flattered she’d invite me to an event filled with Ivy Leaguers. If these are her people, I want to meet them.

But another part of me is hesitant. I really don’t give a fuck what other people think of me. I don’t get intimidated easily. If I’m being honest, though, I am feeling a little intimidated by this whole thing. Maybe because I want to please Gracie so bad. I want to make a good impression on her friends and colleagues. But what if I look like some bumbling country bumpkin compared to them?

Don’t get me wrong—playing major league ball meant I moved in some pretty rarified circles back in the day. I’ve rubbed elbows with billionaire club owners. Celebrities. Other athletes. But those people spoke the same language I did: sports. I felt comfortable moving in those circles because they were filled with my people.

I get the feeling I won’t fit in quite as well at an Ivy League alumni event. I graduated high school with solid Cs across the board. Dropped out of college. I don’t have a single degree.

These people have multiple. Multiple degrees and, clearly, multiple millions of dollars.

I used to rake it in, too. But I’m not that guy anymore. Which I’m fine with. My life is simpler now, and all the better for it.

Still. I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’m going to talk to these people about.

“Ready?” Gracie asks.

I blink. “Let’s do it.”

Putting my hand on the small of her back, I follow Gracie up the steps.Chapter SixteenLukeA middle-aged woman, dressed to the nines in pearls and heels, greets us at the door.

“Gracie!” she says, pulling her into a hug. “I am so glad you could make it! Everyone was hoping to see you tonight. Not to put too fine a point on it, but people are still talking a lot about you running for president of the association. The position can be yours if you want it…”

My pulse thumps. Apparently I’m not the only one who recognizes Gracie is something special.

Stepping back, Gracie smiles. “C’mon, Lilly, we all know you’re the only person for the job. How in the world could I ever live up to what you’ve accomplished? But thank y’all for thinking of me. I’m flattered. But I’m really focusing on Holy City Roasters right now. We’ve finally built the community and clientele and space of my dreams. Time to pay it forward, you know?”

“We’re so proud of all that you’ve done over at your shop. Mark my words, you’ll be running this town one day.” Lilly turns to me with a smile. “And who is this handsome young man?”

Gracie loops an arm through mine, and despite feeling very out of place, there’s a rush of pride in my chest.

“This is my friend, Luke Rodgers. Luke, this is Lilly Lawrence. She’s president of—well, basically everything. A shipping company and our alumni association here in South Carolina. I have no idea how she does it, but I want to be her when I grow up.”

“Oh, hush, you are well on your way to becoming your own success story.” Lilly takes my hand, giving it a firm shake. “It’s lovely to meet you, Luke. Welcome.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you. Took a long time to get it exactly how we wanted it. We said it was going to be our last house. But of course we’re getting restless, and now we’re looking for our next project.”

“That sounds exciting,” Gracie says. “Where are y’all looking?”