Page 60 of Ice Me Out

“My bad, Sugar,” he quickly apologized, snatching away his phone when he figured out the source of my aggravation.

I’m annoyed and jealous as fuck. I shouldn’t be because Hart’s not my man. We’re companions, but still, the thought of him entertaining another woman makes my skin crawl.

“It’s fine.”

He chuckled as he tapped away on his phone.

“From your tone, I can tell you’re anything but fine, but you have nothing to worry about. I said exclusive, and I meant that. I won’t lie to you; I get a lot of women who slide into my DMs. Hell, I get some men who sneak in there, too, hoping I’m a closeted athlete or something. I haven’t engaged with any of these women since meeting you and have been blocking them on the spot,” he explained earnestly.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Hart. We’re not in a relationship,” I said, more as a reminder for myself than him.

His face remained unreadable, but his eyes burned with quiet determination as he held my gaze.

“No… we’re not in a relationship, but we’re something,” he said, his voice steady with conviction. I swallowed under his intense scrutiny and swore he could hear me gulp. The thought of being more was intimidating. I’d have to come to terms with the fact that certain things came with dating a pro-athlete. The women would be nonstop, and I’d have to be secure in myself and trust Hart until he showed me otherwise.

So far, Hart’s been nothing but open and honest with me, and now it’s time for me to be honest with him. Here goes nothing…

“I can get jealous.”

His brows quirked in surprise. When he grinned, I knew he wasn’t taking me seriously.

“How jealous are we talking here? Bleach all my clothes, jealous, or slash my tires, jealous?”

“All of the above.”

Grinning, he leaned against the couch and draped his arms over the back.

“That’s fine. I need new clothes, and the Bronco is due for new tires anyway.”

I snorted.

“You’re not taking me seriously.”

“I get jealous, too,” he admitted.

“How jealous are we talking here? Stalk me on campus, jealous, or run over my Miata in your Bronco, jealous?”

“All of the above,” he answered smoothly. I shrugged.

“That’s fine. I don’t mind you watching my six on campus, and you promised to upgrade my car anyway.”

He smirked.

“Anything else?” he inquired impatiently, putting me on notice that he was ready to end the conversation and move on with our night.

“We’re good for now.”

“Are we tabling and moving on?”

“It’s tabled,” I confirmed.

“Good,” he replied, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

I stood and offered him my hand. “Come on.”

He waved me off. “Nah, Sugar. I’m good.”

I cleared my throat. “Boy, get your ass off that couch and get in bed.”