Page 134 of Off Limits: The Firsts

And here we go.

“What is it?” I honestly don’t have the bandwidth to deal with her today.

The crowd goes wild as the opposition scores, and I crane my neck from where I stand huddled in the back to watch the replay on the Jumbotron overhead. Lucky shot.

“Who scored?” she asks.

“The Patriots.”

“Boo,” she says, and I smile but then remember she’s playing coy.

“What is it you needed, Len?”

“I just wanted to see how it was going with Maddox.”

“I’ve talked to him but haven’t talked to him yet about us.”

“Us?”

“KSM,” I explain in annoyed exasperation.

“Yes. Sure,” she says but doesn’t sound anything like she does. “It was pretty shitty of Dad to make Maddox your recruit.”

I open my mouth and close it, wanting to say so much—agree, commiserate, talk about what it felt like to see him for the first time—but don’t. “It’s business. I can handle it.”

“Keep that in mind.”

And now my back is up.

“Excuse me?” I snort.

“You two were more than sex.”

“Thanks for the analysis, but you’re wrong. That’s all we were.” Were my feelings for him really that transparent?

“That came out wrong. What I mean was I know he hurt you.”

“I’ve been hurt a lot. It’s not a big deal.”

“Easy to say, hard to do,” she murmurs.

“Your point?” I ask, ready for the conversation to be over.

“If you sleep with him, this whole thing is over.” I should be stunned by her direct nature, but I’m not. Subtlety is not Lennox’s strong suit. Silence is my response. “Not to be the party pooper . . . or should I say pretty kitty pooper, but if you sleep with him—”

“No worries there.”

“—then our other clients will think he’s getting preferential treatment—”

“Are you actually lecturing me?” I ask through a laugh. “After you slept with Hardy and that entire debacle? Seriously?”

“It’s not the same. This time it matters.”

She pauses as the arena plays a song that the crowd chants along to and I welcome the distraction.

“And who exactly are you busy trying to woo over to Kincade?”

Her pause has me leaning over as if I can hear the words she’s not saying . . . and I wait.