Page 18 of Punked By the Playmaker
I barely managed to keep from rolling my eyes. “I’m in jeans and a T-shirt.” Hardly anything sexy, which was by design. I didn’t want him getting any ideas.
He dragged a thumb over his plush lower lip. “Yes, but you wear them so well.”
Not in the mood for games, I asked, “Can we skip the pleasantries and get this over with?”
Levi chuckled. “You’re allowed to enjoy a night out.”
Folding both arms over my chest, I leveled him with a glare. “Maybe I’d be able toenjoy myselfif I weren’t being strong-armed into a date with a guy who could snap his fingers and have any woman in this city fall at his feet.”
Humming, he remarked, “Every one of them except you.”
Sarcastic laughter burst past my lips. “Is that what this is? You throwing a fit over something you can’t have?”
“I wouldn’t call it a fit, per se. But I’m competitive by nature, and I can’t say no to a challenge.”
“Pro tip: Setting a challenge that’s achievable helps you avoid disappointment,” I retorted.
His smile only grew. “You have a sharp tongue. Never knew how much I liked that until now.”
Under my breath, I muttered, “Give me a break.”
“What was that?”
I gestured toward the concession stand. “Snacks?”
Amusement sparkled in his brown eyes, betraying that he’d definitely heard my sarcastic remark. “Sure. Are you a popcorn kinda gal, or do you gravitate toward the sweets?”
Together, we got in line. “Definitely popcorn.”
“Me too. Is it too presumptuous to get a bucket to share?”
In my head, I could picture him moving it at the last second so my hand landed in his lap. He was that kind of guy.
Instead of outright accusing him of being the sleazeball I presumed him to be, I joked, “That’s an awful big commitment for a first date. Best to keep them separate.”
Levi rocked back on his heels, beaming. “Does that mean there will be a second date?”
“Let’s not get carried away,” I cautioned.
“Fair.” His head bobbed on a nod. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “So, there’s a big age gap between you and your brother.”
“Seventeen years.”
“And he lives with you?” I cut him a side-eye, to which he held up both hands in surrender. “What? I’m just doing the whole get-to-know-you thing people do on dates.”
Except this wasn’t a real date, but I refrained from pointing that out.
“Yes, he lives with me. Our mom has early-onset Alzheimer’s.”
He sucked in a breath. “Damn, that’s tough. I’m sorry.”
Not half as sorry as I am.
That familiar regret curled through my insides. “She hid it well. So well, in fact, that I only learned of her diagnosis because Austin got sick at school a few years ago, and when they couldn’t reach her, they called me. I brought him to her house and took care of him. She didn’t show up for three days. Completely forgot that she had a kid at home to take care of and went to Palm Springs for a spa retreat. Within weeks, I had legal guardianship of Austin, and we were shopping for memory care facilities.”
Levi’s brows were drawn down. “And your dad?”
“Mine was a naval aviator, killed in action when I was fourteen. Austin’s was never in the picture.”
