Playmaker: A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella by Lisa B. Kamps Read Free Book Online Page A

echoing around them.
    Bridget looked back at him, her gaze raking him from head to foot with one quick glance. Not an appreciative glance, either. This was more like a quick study, like she was simply taking in his wool coat, suit and tie, dress shoes. For some reason her quick once-over made him feel self-conscious and he barely resisted the urge to squirm.
    "I'm not really dressed it for it but thanks anyway."
    "You look fine. It's just a sports bar." Which was mostly true. And there really wasn't a set dress code, despite the fact that it was more of a high-end sports bar.
    "No, I think I'll pass." Bridget jiggled the keys again and looked pointedly at the door Derek was blocking. Was she really saying no? He couldn't believe it. He was asking her out, for shit's sake. Yeah, maybe it wasn't really like a date, more like a spur-of-the-moment invite, but still…was she really saying no?
    Yes, she was. And from the look on her face, she was getting a little frustrated, maybe even a little impatient, with him. Her lips were pursed, making them look fuller, softer…
    Derek looked away from her mouth and cleared his throat. "Why don’t you want to?"
    "Why would I?"
    The question surprised him, completely unexpected, completely alien. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out except a small grunt. Bridget watched him, one brow raised, something like humor flashing in her eyes. Or maybe he was imagining the humor because she wasn't smiling. And she didn't watch him for long. Already her eyes drifted away from him, focusing on the car instead. She adjusted the backpack again, the keys making a loud noise in the sudden chilled silence surrounding them.
    "Why?" He repeated her question and pushed away from the car. "I just thought, you know, it might be fun—"
    "Listen Derek. We did our thing. You don't need to pretend it was anything more than what it was, okay?"
    Was she serious? She couldn't be. But he couldn't tell because she was looking away from him, not meeting his eyes. He couldn't even really see her face because she turned away from him.
    He jammed his hands into his pockets and stepped away from the car. "So it was just a one-night stand then?"
    Bridget's head whipped around, the edge of her ponytail swinging to the side with the movement. Her eyes flashed, or maybe it was just a reflection off the lenses of her glasses. An expression crossed her face, there and gone so quickly he almost missed it. "Wasn't it?"
    What was she trying to hide in her expression? He almost missed it—almost. But he caught the glimpse of surprise and uncertainty. The slight waver in her soft voice when she spoke. And maybe something else. Not hope. Interest?
    Or maybe he was just seeing and hearing what he wanted to see, what he was so used to seeing. He tried to think, to remember the last time he had ever been turned down before.
    He couldn't remember when. And he couldn't believe it was happening now. If he played this the right way, said the right thing, could he get her to change her mind?
    Derek took a deep breath and stepped a little closer to her. He didn't want to crowd her, didn't want to intimidate her—but he did want to get closer to her. Close enough to feel the heat of her body against his. No, not just the heat. He wanted to feel her , her soft curves and lean muscles. The silky softness of those fiery red strands of hair.
    He stopped before he could get too close. What the hell was wrong with him? Women didn't have this effect on him. He didn't have to chase them—they usually chased him. Is that why he was suddenly so determined? Because she didn't seem to be interested?
    That had to be it. It had to be.
    He cleared his throat and offered Bridget a charming smile, kicking up the wattage just a bit. How many times had he been told this particular smile was irresistible? That's what he was aiming for. The smile and a few carefully chosen words, that's all he needed.
    "It doesn't have to be. A one-night stand,