Page 16 of Playing Hard to Hate

“What are you doing here? You’re like an hour away from home.” I hated that he knew that. “Is Millie with you?”

“I’m on a date.” I grabbed my purse firmly and pulled it into my stomach.

His beautiful gray eyes swept over my body for the first time, never lingering longer than necessary, and then his eyes grew wide, and his jaw went slack.

“Wait…dressed like that?” He gritted it out once he gained control of his jaw.

I looked down and then back at him. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing. Just asking, Grace.”

“Right. Well, I better be going. He’s probably worried about me.” I hadn’t noticed, but his hands were still on my hips. “Gonna need you to let go, Fin.” I remembered the girl from last night and pulled away, but his grip was iron strong.

“What’s he like?”

“Pretty cool. I need to go. Don’t you have a baby momma to be with?”

His puzzled eyes met mine. “Grace, what are you talking about?”

“Tabloids,” I mumbled, and he shook his head .

“My teammate’s girl. What’s his name?” Well, now I feel really stupid. Millie would love that update.

“Dylan Lucas.”

“Two first names. Gross.” He scrunched up his face, and I fought the urge to laugh.

“He’s a good guy. Now, if you’ll let me go.”

“Did you see what happened last night?” he asked, changing the subject, his eyes softening with excitement.

“No, what happened?” The light in his eyes diminished a little bit, and I hated myself for lying, but I couldn’t let him know I was watching him.

“I played the mound.”

“Really?”

“I got my team to the championships. We’re actually here celebrating tonight.” On impulse, I hugged him, the same excitement radiating through me as last night.

“I’m proud of you, Silver. Real fucking proud. Now, if you’ll let me go, I have a date waiting on me.” He finally dropped his hands, a sad smile on his face.

“If it’s the nerd in the suit at the front, you deserve better.”

I did. But he didn’t have the right to say that anymore.

Sliding back into my seat at the table, I noticed my appetizer had arrived and had also been eaten.

“Did you eat my mozzarella sticks?” I asked, looking up at Dylan, who just smiled at me. I could see the breadcrumbs stuck in his front teeth, and one of the six sticks sitting half-finished on the plate, as if I were someone only deserving of his scraps.

“You took so long in the bathroom. I got bored waiting . ”

I nodded like this made perfect sense, but it didn’t. Fucking douchebag, I thought, just like the rest. I should have known better.

“Did you order me more?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were hungry.” Was he stupid?

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself.” Sipping on my second drink, I flagged down our server and ordered another plate of fried cheese.

“Want the last one?” he asked, squeezing out a smug laugh.

“I’m good, thanks for thinking about me. Must have girls all over you with how considerate you are.”

“Ha, I wish. Want to dance in the meantime?” he offered, and I shook my head.

“My, uh, heels are too high.”

“So what’s your day-to-day like?” he asked, pretending to be very interested in my career, but his eyes were laser-focused on my cleavage, thanks to Milly’s great idea of coming to a blind date in one step above my birthday suit.

I explained my daily routine, how I got gigs, and everything I was so passionate about with my job. He interrupted a lot, didn’t ask any follow-up questions, and then tried to eat half of my second appetizer.

I was on my third gin and tonic when he spotted Griffin and his teammates.

“Is that the Atlanta Braves?”

I turned around in my seat and pretended to look. “Seems like it.”

“Think they’ll give me an autograph?”

“Sure, why not?” I shrugged, wondering why my goddamn phone hadn’t rung yet.

“I’ll be back.” He slid from the booth and headed toward Griffin and his teammates. I watched, hoping Griffin didn’t tell him we were friends and wishing I could signal the server for my check so I could slip out of here undetected.

Eventually, I spotted our server, and I told him to split our bill.

I paid for my three drinks and one appetizer.

I struggled to read the numbers and calculate the tip.

I drank far too fast and on too little food.

Bad idea, Tate. Bad fucking idea. Especially with that dweeb looking at me like he has the whole night.

I start to stand up, and he’s there, and so is Griffin.

“You didn’t tell me you were friends with one of the players.” For fuck’s sake.

“Didn’t think it was important. I have to go. I’ll see you later,” I told Dylan, avoiding Griffin’s gaze as I stood on both feet and wobbled slightly. I hoped Griffin didn’t notice as I started for the exit.

“Oh, wait let me get my coat. We can go back to my place.”

I halted in my tracks and whirled around.

“Dylan, while I had a great time, I will not be going anywhere with you,” I told him firmly, and he seemed to forget about the very large, angry-looking man behind him as he stepped forward and draped himself over me.

“You dressed like this for me. Let me show you a good time.”

“No. I will be going home alone,” I insisted, and he started to lead me to the exit. Griffin looked on in amusement, watching this guy mess up every chance with me. He looked like a damn predator, a wolf who hadn’t had a meal in weeks staring its prey down. And tonight? Tonight, I was his prey.

“You need to pay your tab,” I pressed, and he waved me off.

“I’m a regular. I’ll get it next time. What’s your favorite position? I’ll do whatever you want, as long as you come home with me.”

“That’s enough, champ. She won’t be going anywhere with you.” Griffin snatched me from under a whiskey-reeking Dylan and pulled me to his chest. I nearly stumbled, but he steadied me. “Go home. Sleep it off, dude, and don’t ever call her again.”

“I don’t even have her number,” Dylan slurred, and I hid my face in Griffin’s chest. He smelled so fucking good it should be sinful.

“Good. I’ll tell you what.” He slowly let go of me, even though I had been glued to his chest, pushing me gently to the side, and quickly stepped in front of me, lessening the distance between him and Dylan.

I didn’t know whether to feel scared or protected in that moment of silence, but then his voice deepened and his chest puffed up, his beautiful back muscles bunched beneath the thin material of his shirt.

It was getting hot in here.

I must have had too much to drink.

“ If you do as much as look her up on social media, I will break your face in half. If I ever see you within five hundred feet of her, you will end up in the hospital. This is your only warning. Consider this your restraining order. Fucking creep.” Griffin led me to where his teammates were and set me up on a barstool.

“Get me a coffee and lemon water for her.”

“You didn’t have to save me. I’m not your damsel in distress.”

“Couldn’t let him hurt you,” he said, and I leaned against his chest, listening to his voice as he talked to the other players. I sipped on the water he gave me and then the coffee, feeling the blurry edges of reality slip away and everything come back into focus.

Griffin had just protected me from someone he didn’t even know. He didn’t bat an eye or hesitate in the slightest.

Was I seeing everything correctly?

Was he really this good to me, or did he want something in return?

Was I really going to question his motives right now after he so selflessly saved me?

Why am I like this?

I should get out of here now while I can. After all, this was Griffin’s night, the night the rookie beat all odds, and I wasn’t taking that away from him .

“I’m good to go home now,” I told him, slipping off the barstool, and he shook his head.

“You’ve had too much to drink, and I’m not letting you take an Uber home in that.”

I wanted to argue, but I knew he was right.

“So…what’s your bright idea?”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“I don’t drink.” He helped me stand and then rested a hand on the small of my back, escorting me out of the restaurant and then down the elevator to the valet.

“My car,” I told him, and he nodded.

“Need you to hold a car overnight. You can charge my account,” he said, and then he helped me into the passenger side of a big black Escalade.

“I don’t need you to pay for me,” I whispered as I settled in, feeling sleep pull at me. I always got sleepy when I drank.

“I owe you more than covering a night of parking, Grace.”

He woke me once we entered town, and I guided him to my condo.

“Where are you going to sleep? It’s late. You can’t drive all the way back.”

“Probably my car.”

That would be so bad for his back.

“You can sleep in Dustin’s room. The sheets are fresh. Nothing fancy, though.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me. I don’t deserve any kindness from you.”

“I’m tired, Griff. I don’t feel like being mean right now.”

He followed me inside and helped me unlock the door after I failed twice, still tipsy after the water and little bit of coffee I managed to sip. He looked around the place and smiled. I kicked off the stupid heels and let my toes sink into the soft carpet with a delighted sigh. I hated high heels.

“It looks like you.”

“You don’t know me anymore,” I pointed out and then led him to Dustin’s room. “Everything you need is there. There’s only one bathroom, and it’s in my room, so give me ten minutes, and then you can come shower.” I left before he could say anything.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, struggled my way out of the stupidly tight dress, and then washed the night away. When I opened the bathroom door, he was standing in my room, staring at the pictures on my dresser.

One in particular of the two of us as kids, my mom had taken after he gave me his own bike for my eighth birthday. The first one without my dad.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Your dad being a jerk.” He doesn’t look at me, still locked on that picture.

“It’s late. Go shower, Griffin.”

“Why do you have this if you hate me?” He picked up the picture and looked at me.

“Who said I hate you?”

“You did. A lot of times.”

“You hurt me. A lot of times.”

He put the picture down and stepped closer to me, looking at me in a different way. I stepped back, hitting the wall.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You looked beautiful tonight. And the lipstick, it’s a nice change.”

I blushed at his compliment. It had been a long time since a man had said something nice, and not sexual, to me .

“Millie calls it hooker red,” I said stupidly as he stepped closer.

“How many men have you kissed, Tate?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He was in front of me now, our chests brushing, breath mingling.

“How many?” he growled. His hands wrap around my wrists, slowly dragging them up the wall.

“None,” I whispered, compelled to answer him.

“I want to be the first,” he said so softly I was sure I was dreaming.

“Griff, is this real?” I whispered, closing my eyes, inhaling his scent mixed with the spicy cologne he’d been wearing tonight.

He cut through my words like butter. “May I kiss you, Tatum Grace?”

I couldn’t even speak, my mind was screaming, yes, absolutely yes, but all I could muster was the soft hum of my voice. I was still feeling like I was in another life, like my body wasn’t mine. “It was always meant to be yours.”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to mine.

Then he was moving to close the distance between us.

His lips pressed ever so softly against my neck, his stubbly checks brushing up against mine.

His lips sucked on my earlobe. A moan broke through my parted lips, and I was so embarrassed, but I couldn’t contain myself.

His lips traced my jaw, so softly, so perfectly, my toes curled into the carpet.

His nose brushed mine, then there was the slight pressure on my lips as he pressed his to mine.

I moaned when his hands dropped my wrists and sank into my hair, holding me to him.

His tongue slipped inside, stealing all my secrets.

Millie was right. I was missing out on something. Something so beautiful, poetic, and utterly breathtaking. I didn’t have words to describe its beauty.