Lilla laughs as we take the elevator down to the lobby. “So you’re a star! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me and I had to see it for myself—you and Dylan on Hollywood Now!”

I blow out a breath as we step out of the elevator and walk into the bar. “Bill’s already texted me his congratulations. Which is just ridiculous. I don’t look like a star—I look stupid.”

“Bill said he thought you looked like a model, and I agree. You looked hot, especially when you took that cameraman down. And the way Dylan was looking at you”—Lilla gets closer and whispers in my ear—“I think he’s in love with you.”

I laugh and playfully tap her with the stack of pamphlets in my hand. “Far from it I’d say. Come on, let’s get started with these.”

I start tossing the pamphlets on any table I pass.

Lilla follows along next to me, picking up every pamphlet I put down. “You’re not supposed to put these on the dining tables. Bill said to designate one table in the corner just for brochures and pamphlets, and then the guests will come by and leaf through them. At least that’s his hope.”

“They’re not going to freaking leaf through a bunch of pamphlets on our company.” I swerve to avoid a few players entering the room and exhale in relief that Dylan’s not with them. “This is a huge waste of our time.”

“What’s going on with you?” Lilla asks me. “You’re awfully grumpy for someone who just spent an entire day with your dream man.”

“I’m not grumpy,” I protest. “And I told you how I screwed up the interview. It was humiliating. His agent was furious with me. I just hope Dylan doesn’t tell his entire team about it.”

“I’m sure he’d have no reason to,” Lilla reassures me. “I think this is about more than the interview, though.”

I increase my pace through the room.

“I think this is about that ridiculous pact you two made to keep this thing between you temporary.” Lilla hops alongside me as I march toward an untouched corner table. “You’re having regrets, aren’t you?”

I grab the pamphlets and brochures out of the binder and start putting them, in no order whatsoever, onto the table I’ve chosen. Lilla takes some out of my hands and helps me.

“Jase,” she says firmly. “Am I right? I am, aren’t I? You’ve fallen for him.”

I don’t answer her at first. I work to collect myself.

No, I practice saying in my head. I haven’t fallen for Dylan. Not at all. We haven’t even had a proper kiss, for God’s sake. How could I fall for someone without knowing if I like the way he kisses? It’s not possible.

“Lilla.” I turn to face her. “I can’t have second thoughts about the temporary nature of what we’re doing. While it may seem crazy to you, to me it has been a relief. It gives me great clarity about when this relationship will be ending. And believe me, Dylan is on the exact same page.”

“Well, according to your little plan, your affair or whatever it is ends day after tomorrow. That’s less than forty-eight hours away. You going to sleep with him between now and then and still not fall in love with him?”

I open my mouth to argue over all of her points, but then I shut it again without answering. I frown and turn back to the table.

“You may want to live in this world of delusion,” Lilla says to me. “But I’m not. I see the complete reality of this situation you’ve gotten yourself into, and I’m looking forward to seeing what the two of you decide to do about it. Should be interesting.”

Should be. Too bad I’m the star in this psychodrama. If I weren’t, I may actually enjoy the ending as well.

“Hey.”

I hear the greeting, but it’s so quiet I don’t quite register that someone’s there. I keep throwing down pamphlets.

“Hey, Jasalie.”

I scream when I turn and notice Dylan standing two inches from me. Without thinking about it, my hands are up in a quick thrust to put distance between us and I’m shouting, “Back off!”

Dylan jumps about a foot backward. “Hey. What the heck—”

Bill looks over at me menacingly from where he’s talking to the owner of the Cougars.

I swallow and regain my sanity. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I just…you scared the crap out of me.”

“Wow.” Dylan fights a smile. “Are you always on this high alert?”

“I told you I lived on the streets for a short time.”

Why do I keep circling back to that?

“What streets?”

“L.A.,” I say. “It wasn’t for that long, really.”

Six months isn’t long in the scheme of things although it felt like six decades.

“Where was your family?” he persists.

“Question hour is now over.” I reach up and put my finger to his lips.

“Sorry.” He reaches up to his mouth and takes my hand in his. “You look gorgeous.”

My cheeks go hot. I packed this dress on a last-minute whim. I bought it three years ago with my friend Bella, who insisted we each needed to “buy something sexy” as an act of self-acceptance. Well, Bella’s moved back to Maine now, and this dress has sat in my closet ever since it was purchased, but I tossed it into my suitcase for this trip. Kind of like how I tossed in the condoms—hopeful but not really serious. The plunging neckline shows far more skin than I’m comfortable with, and the cream color and sleeveless arms add to my feeling of vulnerability. Even my back is partially exposed.

I look up and meet Dylan’s heated gaze on my body. Shoot. I really need to stop trying so hard to dress up for him.

“Thanks.” I cross my arms over my chest and let myself peruse him. His charcoal suit looks like it cost a million dollars. “Very classy suit. I think I’ve only seen ones like it on television.”

“This is for you.” He grins and bows.

I turn away to hide my smile. All I can think about is this afternoon in his room. His hands on my writhing body, my mouth on his shirt, my moans as I—

“Jasalie.” The word comes out of his mouth gruffly. “Look. About earlier—”

“No need to explain or feel like you have to coddle me,” I say. “You and I made that no strings pact together, and I’m still fully on board. But I need to get back to work,” I say over my shoulder. “So I’ll see you later on.”

I hurry off as fast as I can and go straight to the bathroom. Once I get into a stall and lock the door, I lean my head against the metal wall and exhale deeply.

I spend the next two hours running around the bar and offering to do whatever Bill needs done. As usual, he’s got plenty of requests, from faxing a last-minute receipt to the office to making late-night dinner reservations for him and his new lover downtown. I do all of it with a smile, anything to avoid more awkward conversations with Dylan.

He’s avoiding me too, though. I can tell by the way he always manages to be surrounded by at least two people every time I pass by him.

I’m about to head for the bathroom to take a break when three women rush over to me from across the room.

“Jasalie, it’s so great to meet you!” one gushes.

“You’re just adorable!” says another.

“We’ve been hearing so much about you, but we never got a chance to actually pin you down while you were working!” says the third.

I take a step backward. “I’m sorry. Are you all…”

“I’m Maura, Wes Janson’s wife.” A short brunette smiles at me. “We heard Dylan and you have been spending time together. Wes pointed you out, and we thought we’d come over and say hello.”

I smile awkwardly. I’m not comfortable talking to random women about my love life. I actually find myself missing Lilla right now. She’d know what to say to these people.

“I’m Chrissy Dosa, Taylor’s wife.” I shake hands with another dark-haired petite woman before she gestures to the curvy redhead next to her. “And Harlow is Dante Robinson’s latest.”

Harlow laughs and puts her arm around me. “We’re the two newbies here; right, hun?”

I don’t answer her. Instead, I shift so I can locate Dylan. He and Dante are clicking shot glasses high above their heads. I watch them swallow what’s inside them and slam them down onto the bar. I remember Dante’s bio in the handbook: Pro Bowl wide receiver, and he got some league record for catches last season. He’s super tall, clearly in amazing shape, and his light brown hair is cut in a buzz cut that works for him. His blue eyes are piercing as they scan the room, almost like he’s always searching for someone to tease. His fun-loving attitude would be cute if he didn’t have a strong creep factor attached to him. I can feel it from here, and a chill goes down my spine.

“You and Dylan are too cute together,” Harlow says to me.

I look at her. Her eyes are a pretty green, but they’re calculating and shifty. Mean girl eyes. I’ve met women like Harlow before, and I can tell immediately not to trust a word that comes out of her mouth.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence ensues between the four of us.

Where the fuck is Lilla?

Maura starts talking. “I love my husband, but those nights can sure get lonely when our men are out of town. Wes has been in the league for ten years now. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to his retirement one of these days.”

“Oh, I know,” says Chrissy. “I mean I’ve only been with Taylor for two years now, at least with him exclusively if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, who’s with their man exclusively, really?” Harlow laughs. “I mean you are, Maura, but you and Wes are the exception, not the rule.”

Maura squirms as she looks over at me. “Now that’s not true,” she says unconvincingly. “Wes isn’t the only faithful guy on this team. Come on.”

“Not the only faithful guy, no, but I could count the number of young guys on this team who are only dating one woman on my pinkie finger.” Chrissy laughs.

“Aren’t you and Taylor married?” I ask Chrissy.

“Over two years.”

“So…” I think I must be missing something here. “Aren’t you guys faithful to each other?”

“We try.” She sighs. “But he’s just gone so much, it gets hard. I mean who can blame him right? If I had hordes of men hanging all over me, I’d be harder pressed to sleep alone. As it is, I’ve had my share of indiscretions. But, you know how it is, Jasalie. Right?”

No, actually, I had no idea how it is. None at all. I’d suspected, but I guess I’d started to feel like maybe Dylan was different. Or maybe he and I could be different.

My stomach rises up into my throat, and I think I’m going to be sick. I look back over at Dylan. He and Dante are talking to the bartender and laughing. A waitress comes up to them and asks them something. Dante puts his arm around her, really close to her ass, and whispers something into her ear. She turns red and walks away. Dante looks at Dylan and laughs. Dylan doesn’t laugh with him, but the whole thing makes me nauseous. I look away.

“Excuse me,” I say to the three women as I turn and walk outside the hotel.

The desert air is dry and cool. I lean up against the windowpane of the bar and stare down at the sidewalk. A piece of gum I must have narrowly missed stepping on is right next to my foot. I tug at the strap of my dress, wishing I hadn’t worn this outfit. Deal or no deal, there’s no room for me in Dylan Wild’s world. None at all.

“Jasalie?”

I turn my head and come face to face with a pretty redhead. Her striking green eyes assess me.

“Are you okay?”

I tamp down my distress and give her the biggest fake smile in my repertoire. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

She extends her hand. “I wanted to introduce myself. I sort of met you once before, but not formally. I’m—”

And then I realize who she is. She’s the woman I tried to serve a drink to at the Super Bowl after party, the one who was sitting with Colton and Dylan.

“Sky. Skylar Wild.” She giggles. “That still sounds weird to say. Colton and I literally just got married.”

I shake her hand and smile, a real smile this time. “Congratulations. Your husband is so nice.”

“He’s the best,” she says. “He told me how you and Dylan are…”

I fill the awkward pause. “We’re engaging in a business exchange, yes. I’m helping him out with his charity.”

We study each other for a moment until Sky bursts out laughing. “Well, that’s romantic as hell, isn’t it? Dylan really knows how to win over the woman he can’t stop thinking about.”

My own laugh catches in my throat. “He hasn’t known me long enough to say something like that.”

She narrows her eyes in a knowing look. “Love and lust can’t be quantified, can they?”

I guess not. Dylan hasn’t left my radar since I first laid eyes on him.

“I saw you chatting with a few of the ladies inside, some of the players’ significant others.” She sighs. “Don’t listen to them, Jasalie. If you do, you’d run so fast and so far Dylan would never be able to find you.”

I may do that, anyway, but I give her my attention. “So you and Colton…”

“May be new at this marriage thing, but I can assure you that I would not be with Colton if I couldn’t trust him. With my heart and with my life. And Dylan is as honest a guy you’ll ever find.”

I fidget with the hem of my dress. “He and I are from two different worlds.” I glance through the window at Dylan animatedly talking with his agent, most likely turning down the public kiss idea.

“You don’t care about Dylan’s glamorous life,” Sky says confidently.

“No. I hate it, actually. Well, hate is a strong word, but I certainly don’t get off on it.”

She nearly squeals as she squeezes my arm affectionately. “Dylan needs someone like that. Someone who just likes him for who he is. You’d make a great couple, Jasalie. Don’t dismiss the idea, okay?”

I don’t know that she’s right, but her eyes are so intense and kind.

“Okay,” I say.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Colton says as he walks up to the bar.

I turn to glare at him. “None of your business, Wild.”

“She seems to be avoiding you, too. Not that she’d have much of a choice anyway with the way you’re making sure to never be alone with her.”

Yes, I’ve been trying to give Jasalie space tonight because after what happened in my room, I don’t know how to navigate what’s happening between us. When she broke apart on my hand, I was so damn hard it took me forever to calm down afterward. Any other woman, and I would have just jerked off. But not this time. I refused to give in, no matter how miserable I was all afternoon. Because taking care of myself would feel like I’d given up on being with her already. And I haven’t. I want Jasalie so badly I’m having a hell of a time keeping my dick relaxed. I crave to be inside of her. I don’t know that she’ll ever want me that way, but today gave me hope.

Except she tore out of my room like what we had just done was a huge mistake. Although that was no doubt my fault—I gave her no hint that I wanted her to stay. I was too busy reeling from the emotions rushing through my chest. It was the look in her eyes when she came—I’d be a fool to think what’s between us can stay casual. It’s so far from casual that I’m rethinking everything. And that’s dangerous.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I mutter to Colton.

“So figure it out,” he says to me as he turns to leave. “Because if you’re thinking about it, then it’s worth fixing.”

Jasalie Gordon walks into a room like the strongest person in existence, like she can defend and protect better than any lineman in football. But underneath all that strength, she’s hiding this vulnerability. She’s like a rare butterfly, beautiful and fragile as if the slightest breeze could break her spirit. And I don’t ever want to hurt her.

I follow her with my eyes as she disappears out of the hotel. Something in her body language changed just now. Jasalie got…tense. I ignore Dante as he flirts with yet another waitress just trying to do her job and crane my neck so I can see out the window. Jasalie must have gone around the corner because she’s nowhere to be found.

“Dude, what are you staring at?”

Dante’s hand appears in front of my face, forcing me to turn away from the window.

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

“Bullshit. You’re looking for that Jasalie chick aren’t you? I saw her hanging with Harlow.”

So did I. That’s what worries me. Harlow’s not the kind of woman Jasalie would enjoy spending more than two seconds with.

“I’m not,” I lie. “Lay off, Dante.”

“I don’t like this,” he says to me. “You lovesick over some girl you just met. You know how many women come on to rich athletes? How do you know what her intentions are?”

I don’t. I don’t know anything about Jasalie, really. But she didn’t come on to me. I’ve been chasing her since we met. And I trust her. Yet I feel helpless because this can’t go anywhere permanent. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, though, because I sure as hell can’t seem to stop wanting her.