Page 22 of The Game
But still, just a man.
When I look up again, I see his gaze already fixed on me, and I quickly look away.
It would be so much easier if he didn’t do that.
Anytime he’s nearby, I feel his eyes on me, and it makes me feel exposed.
In the worst and best way possible.
Worst because he stirs up feelings and thoughts I shouldn’t have about a man who not only insulted me but also works with me.
The best because he makes me feel so womanly—desired and wanted. Even though he’s toned down his stare since our first meeting, there’s no denying the desire between us.
When he’s near, it feels like parts of me are lit up, making me feel out of control, which is scary as hell.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm going on inside me, still feeling his gaze on me, but not daring to return his stare.
Once the media segment of the game is over, we decide to go out for a drink at The Rove.
When we arrive, some players are already there. They probably had their private chauffeurs on standby outside the arena.
We make our way over and find some seats.
When my foolish eyes look for Alexander, I remind myself once again that I have no reason to seek him out. Or anyone else, for that matter.
“I’ll just go to the restroom,” I tell Samantha, who’s deep in conversation with some of the guys.
I head to the restrooms and take care of my business.
When I step out, Alexander is standing right outside the door, as if he’s waiting for someone. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking at me with a small smile playing on his lips.
“You lost there, captain?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice steady.
“No, I’m right where I want to be, actually,” he says casually, but the way his eyes are on me is anything but casual.
He takes a step toward me, and I turn to the side, anything to avoid his gaze. He smells heavily, and I feel the urge to run.
“Okay, then. You can stay back here, and I’ll go back to my table,” I say.
Just as I’m about to take my first step, he cages me against the wall with his arm raised right beside my head.
Christ.
His biceps bulge under the shirt, and I swallow hard.
“Not so fast there. What is it with you and running away from me? Do I make you scared?” He leans slightly into me, not touching but making it clear I’m not getting away.
I probably could if I really wanted to, but part of me secretly enjoys this.
The challenge.
The pull.
The fight.
“I’m not scared of you, captain,” I say, and he lets out a low chuckle.
“Oh, Sarah, it would be more convincing if you actually used my name. This whole ‘captain’ thing seems like a way for you to hold onto some control. The only problem, angel, is that two can play that game, and you will lose.”
