Catching the Player (A Hamilton Family 3)

Damn it.

Chapter Twelve

Someone knocked on Kassidy’s door, and she hurried toward it, her heart racing like it always did when someone knocked. For three weeks, Wyatt had been coming up with reasons to stop by and help her with things, giving himself an excuse to ask for another favor from her. And for three weeks, she’d been telling him no favors were needed. That she enjoyed his company without them.

Yet…he insisted on doing it anyway.

He’d helped her paint her kitchen. Laughed with her as she continued to try to master yoga in her living room, and then kissed her until neither one of them were laughing about failed downward dogs anymore. He’d even had dinner catered for them at his place after she confessed to never having tried authentic Indian food, and died laughing when she drank a whole gallon of water afterward.

If she mentioned something she wanted to try, he was there, ready to help her. These past three weeks had been thrilling.

Life changing. Amazing. A dream come true.

Yet, with all of that, no matter how great it had been, or how many times he showed her new, exciting ways to live, there was no escaping the fact that this thing between them, this fling that was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more? It was exactly that. A fling.

Everyone knew that those didn’t last forever.

She opened the door, and sure enough, he stood on her doorstep wearing a smile, a pair of sweats that hid nothing from her (Praise Jesus), and a tight black T-shirt. His hair was still damp from his after-practice shower, something she now knew he did every day at the facility because he hated being sweaty. He held up a six pack of her favorite beer, a DVD of Titanic, and said, “Today’s the day I make you cry.”

She groaned and stepped back, letting him inside. “I told you. I don’t cry at movies.”

“Only because you skip all the sad ones.” He walked past her, paused to back up and kiss her, and then continued on. He headed into her living room, talking over his shoulder as he went. “If this doesn’t make you cry, then I’ll start to doubt that you’re a human capable of real emotions at all.”

Oh, she was capable of human emotions, all right.

She was falling for him more and more each day, despite the fact that he would never fall for her. That showed emotion. Two of them. One, she preferred not to name out loud. The other, she had no problem admitting: stupidity.

Wait. Was that an emotion?

Shutting the door, she sighed as she locked it. “I never should have told you that.”

“Yeah, you should have,” he said, coming up behind her and spinning her around in a circle. “You can’t say you’ve lived if you haven’t watched and cried over sad movies.”

“Spoiler alert, the ship sinks,” she said, her voice dry. Resting her hands on his chest, she locked eyes with him, and he legit took her breath right out of her lungs. There was something about the way he looked at her that pulled her closer to him, entangling her in his web, and she was helpless to stop him. “And most of them die.”

“Ah, but you don’t know who.” He tapped her on the nose, practically hopping as he dragged her into the living room. “That’s the fun part.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. His excitement was so catching and endearing. “The movie has been out for most of my life. Do you really think I don’t know who dies?”

“No.” His face fell. “Seriously?”

She felt bad for him, so she fibbed a bit and said, “Rose, right?”

“You’ll have to see,” he said, excited once more as he dragged her toward her couch. Bringing back his excitement was well worth any lie she told. “Come on.”

She let him lead her. “Are you ready for the game Sunday? After your loss to New York, you guys really need to win.”

“Yep.” His smile faded. “Fucking Manning.”

She patted his back. “You’ll get him next time.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, my studying was finished before I came over. Still, I’ll watch our last game one more time before Sunday. I like to know my enemy well.” He sat and tugged her down directly beside him. Reaching out, he grabbed a beer and handed it to her. The DVD case was open and empty. She hadn’t even seen him put it in. “And my friends even better.”

“I’ll watch with you,” she said, swallowing hard. She hated sad movies. They were designed to make you cry. Like, what the hell? Life was sad enough without making you care about someone on the screen and then killing them off, thank you very much. “I can help you take notes and—”

“No. You’re watching a sad movie.”

She sighed and took a drink of beer. “I don’t want to.”