to a freaking sleepover with the guy who got me pregnant.
“I’ll remind you that I am here solely on a work call for matters of my business assignment.” I straighten my back and cross my arms, giving Matt a teasing glare as I walk through the door into his apartment.
It’s completely irrational and stupid, and all my feet have ever wanted to do is run and fly and get away from everything, and yet…here I am. With a foggy, one a.m. brain, wearing sweatpants and my brother’s old, faded Bud Light T-shirt. Here I am.
Matt looks me up and down, those deep-blue eyes drinking me in like I’m wearing lingerie and not oversized pajamas. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad you called,” I say under my breath, meeting his electric gaze and surprising myself with the openly flirtatious side of me that Matt seems to bring out.
I don’t usually flirt. I don’t usually go over to a guy’s apartment in the middle of the night. I don’t usually let my mind wander into spirals of thoughts about someone for what seems like hours on end.
Then again, I don’t usually have a baby with a sweet, sexy stranger. So I’ll cut myself some slack for tonight.
Matt walks over to the sofa, and I follow, admiring his damp hair and post-shower freshness. Of course he showered while I was on my way here. Of course he wanted to torture me like that.
“So, PR wizard.” He juts his chin and inches closer to me as I sit, the sharp cut of his jawline begging to be touched and kissed. “You’re here for work, after all. Tell me what you got.”
I smile and shake my head, brushing some hair out of my face and letting my shoulders relax a little. “All right. Can I ask you something first?”
He holds up his hands and grins. “Open book. Shoot.”
“That Ravens defender, the one who got hurt…Raymond O’Neill.”
“Yeah.” Matt bites his lip and looks down. “I heard it was an ACL. He’ll recover fine, though. He’s a tough dude.”
“Right.” I swallow. “Matt, why did you run over to him and help him up?”
“What do you mean?” He half smiles, confusion pulling his brows together. “He was hurt. I wanted to make sure…”
“I know. But usually teammates are the ones who go over to an injured player, with the medics and all that.”
He narrows his gaze and draws back. “Okay, injury police,” he says on a soft laugh. “He was down, and it looked bad. Figured I’d help him out.”
“But you don’t know him,” I clarify slowly.
“Not personally.” Matt shakes his head and holds up a hand. “Okay, not that I don’t completely trust your methods, but what exactly does this have to do with getting all the fans to support me in time for the Super Bowl?”
I arch a brow and smile at him, nodding slowly. “Everything.”
He cocks his head in question, and a droplet of water from his post-shower hair falls onto his forehead.
I remind myself that I get some slack tonight, and I reach forward and gently wipe the waterdrop off his face.
I swear he jolts a little at my touch, and the firing sparks of electricity between us send me right back to that fateful night a few weeks ago.
“Everything, huh? Care to explain?” he asks, barely above a whisper, leaning closer to me and building even more heat between us.
I let my finger take a slow trip down his soft, chiseled face as I wipe away more waterdrops. His chest rises and falls, syncing up with my own heartbeat pounding in my head.
“Well…” I whisper, trying to shake off the hot wave of uncontrollable hormones and dirty thoughts that are the very reason my life is in its current state of hot mess-ness. “We just have to get everyone to see that shiny golden heart of yours.”
“That what?” Matt laughs, low and sexy, studying me in confusion.
“Matt…” I angle my head down, looking up at him and letting my hair fall around my face. “No matter how hard you try to deny this, you’re not a cocky, douchey, egomaniac jock like Chase is—er, was, before he married Whitney. You’re not that guy.”
He runs a hand through his hair, glancing out the window at the glittery South Florida skyline. “How do you know?” He turns back to me, a smile teasing his lips. “Because I helped a player up when he was hurt? Because I want to be a decent father to my kid, no