Page 98 of Broken Saint
“It’s okay,” I soothe, now the one holding his hand. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a team one or not, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You have a high-profile, high-stress job. I’d be amazed if you didn’t need someone to vent to every now and then. Kane has Letty, Luca has Peyton. You must?—”
“Be lonely?” he suggests.
“Shit, Colt. That wasn’t what I meant at all.”
“Maybe I am. Recently things have been…” He sits back, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “I dunno. Wrong, I guess. I haven’t been with anyone in ages, and I’ve been having all these thoughts about?—”
“Are you ready to order?” our server says, interrupting whatever Colt was about to say.
“Sure,” he says, and it’s not until he turns to look up at him that I realize he’d let his mask slip.
He’s letting me in. Letting me see the man who hides behind the jersey and pads. I can’t help but wonder how many have ever met him.
Colt rattles off a whole host of dishes, way more than the two of us would be able to eat in a week, but my stomach growls even louder with each one.
After his actions at breakfast this morning, I knew I wasn’t going to get away with ordering a salad. And while a part of meis already trying not to count the calories in my head, the other part is relieved.
Once he’s done, he turns back to me with his signature smirk fully in place.
“What?” I ask, my skin burning under his heated gaze.
“You wanted to order a salad, didn’t you?”
My lips purse, both impressed and annoyed that he’s got me pegged so well.
“Maybe,” I confess.
“I know it’s not as easy as me saying this but, you need to get all the bullshit that asshole told you out of your head. They were his issues, not yours.”
I nod, agreeing with both parts of his statement. Pushing aside all those feelings of not being good enough are easier said than done. However, having his hungry gaze on me sure helps to feel like I’m doing more than existing in the shadows.
“You were interrupted before. What were you going to say?” I ask, attempting to turn this back on him.
He shakes his head. “It was nothing. Certainly nothing more important than telling you how beautiful you look right now.”
“You need to stop,” I say, blushing again.
“I really, really don’t. I love sitting here, wondering just how low that blush goes.”
I startle when his foot gently brushes my calf and moves up. It’s innocent, but from the way my body burns up, he may as well have spread my legs and embarked on eating me for dinner instead.
“Right down to your nipples, I bet,” he muses darkly.
“W-what?” I stutter, barely able to get my brain to function.
“Your blush, I bet it goes right down to your nipples. Want to prove me wrong?”
All the air races from my lungs in a rush as I squirm against my seat.
“I’m not taking my tits out here,” I gasp, trying to sound affronted, but I’m pretty sure I just sound horny and desperate.
Not my finest moment.
“Why not?” he asks innocently. “No one can see us.” He makes a show of looking around.
“We’re in a restaurant, Colt. And you’re…” His brow quirks in curiosity. “You’re famous. You can’t be caught doing stuff like that.”
“Pretty sure the media has caught me doing worse, Bombshell. You know it too, my little stalker.” Amusement lights up his eyes as his smirk returns.