parties in college.”
“I didn’t go to college.” She took her glass of champagne and tipped it over my empty martini glass. She poured the liquid straight down onto my abandoned olive and vodka dregs. “Oops. I spilled my drink.”
Yeah. She made my cock hard. No fucking question about it.
“What should we do about it?”
“We can leave.” She opened her purse and started to pull out her credit card.
I touched her wrist. “No. This is on me.”
“Thank you.” Dakota tucked her card back in her purse. “So is this where you tell me you know a quiet place where we can get a drink and it turns out to be your apartment?”
That would be cheesy as fuck, but I would have gone for it if it was an option.
I shook my head. “No. My daughters are at home with the nanny. There is no drinking, or anything else, happening at my apartment tonight. I really meant a bar with less people, if such a place exists. Or a restaurant.” I glanced at my phone. “It’s only ten.”
“You have daughters?” She sounded surprised.
I nodded. “Two. They’re twelve and eight. I have full custody of them. Their mom lives in Florida.” I didn’t want to elaborate too much but I wasn’t going to avoid the subject either. This was my life. The girls were my priority.
“Oh, I see. Do you have to be home at a certain time?”
“No. The nanny lives with us. She’s not expecting me home until late.”
“Do you have time to go to Harlem? Because I know a quiet place where we can get a drink and it’s my apartment.”
That wasn’t exactly around the corner, but fuck if I cared. “I definitely have time to go to Harlem.”
I tossed far too much money on the bar for our tab, making eye contact with the bartender and nodding as I slid the bills across the bar. I wanted out of there as soon as possible. “Are we good?” I asked him.
His eyes widened. “Yep. We’re great. Have a good night, sir.”
“Thanks, you too.” I moved away from the bar and offered Dakota a hand to help her off the stool. “Ready?”
Dakota took my hand. “Very.”
I led her toward the stairs, thinking running into her—or her running into me, technically—was the best coincidence I’d ever experienced. On the field or off.
Her hand was smooth in mine as we walked. Neither of us let go. The night we had met, I had done the same. It had felt more innocent then, friendly. Now it felt weighty, heated, sexy.
I had zero intention of finding Carson and Matt and telling them I was leaving. I didn’t want to hear their opinions. Carson would fret like my mother and Matt would razz me about potentially getting laid. I would just text them and let them know I’d left.
Out on the sidewalk, I raised my hand for a taxi.
Then impulsively, I bent down and kissed Dakota.
Chapter Three
Brandon had two daughters.
That was unexpected. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I’d never given any thought to it.
I let him pull me out of the bar, mulling this new reality over. He had full custody of them, too, so those two facts put together instantly made him about five hundred degrees hotter than the average thirty-something man. It made sense now. He was naturally protective, considerate. I could see him as a father.
My thoughts had already been running into dirty territory before I had known about the single dad status, but now? I wanted to both drop an egg and do sexy, naughty things to him to show my appreciation for the total package of a man he clearly was.
I was about to speak, give him a warning about the state of my apartment, which was micro in size and macro in untidiness. Lately, I’d been too unmotivated to clean.
But before I could make apologies, he kissed me on the sidewalk.
The first time we had kissed, it had been slow, easy, delicious. A goodbye, maybe, or more like in appreciation for a pleasant evening hanging out together. But nothing… invasive. Not raw or urgent or questing.
This kiss was the latter and holy shit, did it feel amazing.
His hand was in my hair, holding me firmly against him, and his mouth took mine with zero hesitation. I gasped, gripping on to his shirt for balance, and parted my lips for him. He was a big man, broad, muscular, and I liked having to tilt my head upwards to meet his touch.