Playing to Win

no time to talk.”
    She relaxed. “So you’re saying I made a good call?”
    “You made a good call.” He stood and held out his hand. “Now come with me.”
    He pulled her to her feet and led her toward the kitchen.
    She frowned. “Where are we going?”
    “Outside.” He grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and slid open the back door while she stepped outside. The humidity had lifted, so it was—for a change—a nice night. There was a breeze, crickets were chirping, and the sky was clear. They took seats on the chairs, Cole opened the bottles, and they sipped their beers. Savannah enjoyed the quiet after the sheer madness of the party, and Cole seemed content with the silence between them.
    This was…nice. It was something a married couple would do after a party. Sit outside together and unwind. Or at least she thought that’s what they’d do. Since she’d never been married or even part of a couple, she really had no idea. All she knew was that being with Cole was becoming a habit, and it was more personal than professional. Which made her want to bolt.
    “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
    She met Cole’s gaze. “What look?”
    “The one that says in less than five minutes you’re going to grab your purse and run out my front door.”
    She lifted her chin. “I have no such look.”
    “Actually, you do. It usually appears after we’ve had sex.”
    “It does not.”
    He continued to stare at her, giving her his stoic, unflinching look.
    “You think I run away from you.”
    “I know you run away from me. You’ve done it more than once. More than twice.”
    He was right. There was no point in denying it when they both knew it was true. She inhaled and let out an audible sigh. “I can’t help it. You scare me.”
    “Why?”
    She didn’t want to have this intimate, personal conversation with him. She wasn’t ready to talk to him about her feelings. She wasn’t the type of person to have open, intimate conversations withanyone about how she felt. Other than Liz, of course. But that was different. Liz knew her story and she understood.
    “Peaches. Talk to me.”
    “You’re like a mind reader sometimes. There’s one thing that scares me.”
    He let out a short laugh. “What are you talking about?”
    “I was just thinking that I’ve never told a man how I felt, and then you popped up and asked me to talk to you. It’s…weird.”
    “Come here, Savannah.”
    She did, and he drew her onto his lap. Her nerves danced for a myriad of reasons. Nervousness was one, and the other was excitement, which she always felt being this close to him. How was she supposed to keep a clear head when his body touched hers?
    “It’s okay to tell me how you feel. You can trust me.”
    She looked down at him, at his eyes that always compelled her. She’d always thought they were so mysterious, but now they were so clear. “I don’t trust many people.”
    “Neither do I. But you’re the one who told me I need to broaden my circle of friends.”
    “And now who’s the pot calling the kettle black?”
    “I’m not saying that to throw your words back at you. You were right. I had close friends in school. But not since then. I shut myself off. Getting cut from Arizona—my first team—that hurt. I had started to make friends there. After that, I didn’t want to, afraid the same thing would happen again. And then it did happen again. After that, I became my own worst enemy. I didn’t trust a team to keep me. And maybe I didn’t trust myself to do the right things to stay there, and I didn’t do the right things. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, you know.”
    “I can see how that could happen,” she said. “You got hurt, and you lashed out so no one could hurt you.”
    “Something like that. So I didn’t let myself get close to anyoneon any of the teams I played for. If you don’t let yourself get close to anyone, when you get dumped, it doesn’t hurt.”
    It was like listening to a version of herself. Only Cole was a lot more honest in how he felt, something she’d never allowed herself to be. He was saying all the things she felt inside but had never given voice to.
    “How does it feel?” she asked.
    “How does what feel?”
    “To be that open and honest with someone.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve never done it before. I’ve never said those things to anyone but you.”
    Her heart squeezed. “Why me?”
    “I guess I just wanted to say it—to someone. Or maybe you needed