The Virgin Rule Book (Rules of Love #1) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,56

special?” I ask. I had the sense once upon a time that he’d fallen hard for someone. He’d never shared the details though, and I hadn’t pried. Maybe that’s the reason he’s taking a break?

“Yes.” His answer is emphatic. For a moment he seems lost in time, then he returns to the here and now. “Someone very special. Maybe he will be again.”

A smile takes over my face. “There’s nothing quite like finding your someone special, is there?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He lifts his coffee, takes a drink, then asks thoughtfully. “And you?”

“I haven’t had anyone special before.”

“And do you now?”

A grin dances across my lips. “Maybe,” I say into the latte.

“Elaborate,” he instructs.

I don’t give him the sordid details. I don’t divulge name, batting average, or uniform number. Declan’s a ballplayer too, but even if he weren’t, I wouldn’t serve up the personal intel.

But I give him enough.

“I hope he’s your someone special,” he says as he knocks back the rest of his coffee.

“We’ll see,” I say, trying to hide the smile that won’t go away.

After breakfast, I head to the stadium and bury myself in work. Matthew and I interview the fantastic woman named Kim who’s been an assistant GM for two other teams. She’s sharp, smart, and confident, and she knows her way around arbitration, analytics, and scouting.

The three of us talk for two hours, and during that span of one hundred twenty minutes, I don’t think about tonight at all.

It’s a wonderful slice of time.

It reminds me that I can do my job. I can do what I came here to do.

Sure, even if I get my emotions bruised, even if my heart is knocked around, I’ll be fine.

I’ll come out on the other side of friends-with-benefits unscathed.

Surely I will.

When I say goodbye to Kim and let her know we’ll be in touch soon, Matthew and I conduct a postmortem.

“She’s great. We should offer her more than you make,” I say, teasing.

But he flashes a warm smile and nods. “If that’s what it takes, do it.”

I scoff. “Matthew, I’m joking.”

“I’m not,” he says, intense, serious. “I’m not sitting around counting who makes more money. Or who has the bigger post. I just want what’s best for the team.”

I sigh happily. “I would like to clone you for literally every job I ever need to fill.”

“I’d like to clone myself sometime. Can I send one of my clones out to eat cake and pie all day long, while I stay fit and trim?”

“I want one of those clones too,” I say with a laugh.

“In any case, we’ve got a few more candidates for the job, but we should make sure we know exactly what Kim wants. And then offer it to her.”

“It’s like we share a brain.”

He narrows his eyes. “Sometimes. But, call me crazy, I think it’s for the best that we can’t read each other’s mind.”

With a laugh, I agree. “Truer words.”

I’m glad no one else has access to my thoughts when I check my phone a little later.

Anticipation zips through me when I see Crosby’s name on the screen.

Just flies through my body, lighting me up.

Crosby: Don’t know about you, but I’ve spent the morning getting harassed about that pic Leo took of us. I mean, in the harassers’ defense, I do look like I want to devour you. So fair’s fair. I want to, and I plan to, and I will be doing just that tonight. Before then, I need to know—do you want pasta, Thai, or a grain bowl from Mom’s café tonight?

Leaning back in my chair, I grin like a fool as lust roars through me.

This man turns me on and makes me laugh.

That’s the problem.

I write back, asking for the grain bowl. At least that much is easy.

22

Crosby

I toss the question to my priest. “Am I supposed to confess?”

Raj taps his chin, his brow furrowing as I work through the insane number of crunches he ordered me to do.

“In situations like this, I ask myself, ‘What would Kenneth do?’”

“Who?” I ask as I twist my obliques.

“Kenneth from Thirty Rock. He’s my point of reference for decision-making,” Raj says, crouching next to me at the gym.

“Kenneth? The ultimate good guy? The sweet, innocent Kenneth who’s basically a proxy for Mister Rogers and Kermit the Frog?”

Raj grins, his white teeth gleaming, as he nods. The former Bollywood stuntman is now a kick-ass personal trainer, and I was lucky enough to snag a spot on his client list. “Yep. And hey, those guys