The Problem with Sports - M.E. Clayton Page 0,28

I should probably go.”

Nathan let go of my wrist but took the plate and wine glass from my hands. After he set them back down on the table, he said, “It’s not even eight yet.”

I still refused to look at him, and just kept prattling on. “Early to bed, early to rise, and all that,” I remarked like a loser. “Sleep is the recharging of the soul, you know.”

“I, uh, didn’t know,” he mumbled all confused.

“Yeah, so….” I didn’t finish with my nonsense. I started walking towards the front door to grab my purse when a strong hand reached out and wrapped around my arm, stopping me. Resolving myself to stop being a coward, I looked up at him. “I…”

He regarded me through narrowed eyes. “What’s going on, Andie?”

This. Was. Embarrassing.

“I…I just think I bett…better go,” I replied lamely. “It’s getting late.”

Nathan let go of my arm and his face fell into disappointment. “You didn’t have a good time,” he surmised incorrectly.

I couldn’t let him think that. “I had a lovely time, Nate,” I told him honestly. “Everything was perfect. Really."

He didn’t believe me. “Then why are you rushing out of here like you can’t get away from me fast enough?”

I wanted to lie.

Christ, how I wanted to lie.

But I couldn’t.

“This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled.

“What is?”

I stared up at Nathan, and I knew I was going to have to humiliate myself in front of this gorgeous man. He’s been nothing but great all night long, and I truly did have a great time. I couldn’t let him believe I hadn’t.

“Ifidontgetoutofhererightnowimgoingtojumpyourboneslikeadesperatetramp,” I rushed out like a complete neurotic mess.

Nathan stilled. “Uh, excuse me?”

And because my humiliation knew no bounds and was trying to go for the gold, the shamelessness just came pouring out. “I was sitting there, looking at you and realizing what a good time I’ve had, and then those thoughts started giving way to bad thoughts, and then those thoughts started giving way to how you’re probably so used to women throwing themselves at you, I’d just be another tramp on the VIP list of women who’ve just rolled over for you, and I realized I had to get the hell out of here before I became one of those women,” I rushed out, stopping only long enough to take a breath. “And I don’t want to be one of those women, Nate. I like you. I really, really like you, even if you are a bit of a lunatic, so I need to get out of here because, if I don’t, I’m going to go all trampy on you. And it’s been over two years, Nate. Count them. Two. Years. I’m not sure I won’t just go rabid on you, and then what?” He looked like he was going to say something, but I just. Couldn’t. Shut. The. Hell. Up. “I’ll tell you then what. You’ll think I’m nothing but one of them. You’ll think I slept with you for your fame or money because who sleeps with a guy on the first date when she’s been playing hard to get the entire time?” Again, he looked like he wanted to say something, but I didn’t let him. “Women who haven’t had sex in over two years, that’s who. Me, Nate. And that makes me no better than-”

“Andrea!” he bit out forcefully, and I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

“Y…yeah?”

He was looking like he wanted to smile, and if he did, I was going to pack up our condo and move. “I was only hoping for a kiss at the end of the night,” he said, and I knew he was laughing at me on the inside. “But I’m totally all for the jumping portion of the evening.”

“Nath-”

He stepped forward and took my face in his hands. “I am dying for you to go all rabid tramp on me, Andie. Literally, dying for it, baby.”

Oh, Sweet Jesus, he called me baby.

“Nathan-”

“And you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever confuse you for an athlete chaser, Andie,” he continued. “I’ve paid attention these past couple of weeks, and I know you’re nothing like that.”

“But even if I’m not using you for your fame or money, Nathan, trust me when I say, this first night, I would totally be using you for your body. Two years,” I reminded him.

“Then use me,” he said roughly before slamming his lips down on mine, and all good intentions not to be a hussy flew out the window. I was