Page 56 of Who's Loving You

He blinks and he scratches his head, trying to hide Nico Loving behind the Love Man persona.

“When I was a kid,” he begins and laces his fingers with mine, continuing to escort me to my car. “I wanted to meet one of my favorite players after a game. I sat there, in the freezing cold, with my new hat and jersey, waiting for him to come out and sign them. When I saw him coming towards me, I waved my hands and begged him to sign my stuff. He completely ignored every kid there, most of us shivering from the Pennsylvania winter, and gave nothing more than a quick wave. Mind you, I know they don’t owe us anything, but I had never experienced such heartbreak as that. That day I told my dad when I became a famous athlete, I will sign every jersey and hat and paper and trading card for any kid that asks.”

We reach my car but I don’t unlock it because I simply can’t find the brain power to do anything more than admire him. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Sure as shit I do. I put myself in my dad’s shoes and thought about how my son or daughter would feel if that happened to them. Not just that, but I want my kids to know that they have to do better,bebetter. Not only for themselves or for fame, but because we should all strive to be better humans to one another.”

“Kids?” My awe comes to a screeching halt when I hear those four little letters.

He scrunches up his nose with a funny look. “Of course. I want as many as my future wife will give me. Don’t you?”

The spell has been broken and I dig in my purse and grab my keys. The lights flash and I pull on the handle. The door goes nowhere because Nic holds it closed with his giant paw.

“No,” I snort. “I donotwant kids. I am not the motherly type and never once have I pictured my future with kids running around my house. No thanks.”

He stares at me like I’m a plastic cup of pudding, wondering if the mold on top means I’m ruined, or if I’m salvageable with just a few scrapes.

Here’s a hint football boy; I amnot.

“But…what if your husband wants them? Are you just going to deny him the joy of being a father?”

“No. Of course not. I’m going to make sure I don’t marry a man who wants kids. That’s if I marry at all.” I press my hands on his chest, urging to step back.

“Valentina. You can’t be serious? Are you telling me that you won’t marry me because I want kids? My heart…you broke my heart.” He places both hands on his chest over his heart like I’ve shot him.

I take the opportunity to open my door but don’t make it inside as he steps so that he blocks me from getting in the driver’s seat. This man is doing everything possible to tap dance on my last fucking nerve.

“No, the reason I won’t marry you is because I don’t love you–”

“Yet,” he interrupts.

With an eye roll I continue. “And because you’re not my type. Move your body, please.”

He smirks and steps just far enough for me tosqueeze past him. “So charming, talented, devilishly handsome men aren’t your type?”

“Immature, arrogant, egotistical men aren’t my type. And in case you haven’t figured it out, that’s you homie.” I buckle my seatbelt and press the ignition button, giving him a not so subtle hint it’s time to go.

He kneels down, obviously not understanding I'm done with him, and takes my hand in his. “Mi Reina. I can promise that you’ll never find a man who will treat you better, worship you like a queen, or make you touch the sky more than I can. Give me a chance and I’ll show you just that.”

This boy can sure lay it on thick, but the biggest problem is that I don’t doubt one word that he said. Most of the time when someone is cocky, it’s because they have every right to be. And Nico Loving has earned every ounce of his cockiness.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that.” I work to keep my smile hidden, but I don’t think I do a very good job of it.

I bite the inside of my lip to tame the stupid thing and clear my head of the nonsense that seems to be occupying my good senses. His face, his charm, his way with words is clouding my ability to think clearly and remind myself that he is a job and not the kind of man I need in my life.

“Babe, I think we should go home and talk about this over dinner. This is not the place to discuss the ways I’m going to make your eyes roll back. That’s a private conversation.” And then he opens his mouth with something like that and I’m brought back into the present.

“Wewon’t be having any discussion. Andwewon’t be having dinner. At least, not together. Good night Nico. Thank you for walking me to my car.” I attempt to pullmy hand away, but he holds onto it tighter, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.

My chest grows tight at the feel of his soft lips on the back of my hand. Little tingles shoot down my spine and I know, if it weren’t for this jersey perfectly camouflaging me, my nipples would be poking from beneath it, feeding right into his ego.

“I could really use a chill night with some good food and better company,” he tells me. “Can you please be that person for me? I don’t want to go home to an empty house.”

His big puppy dog eyes combined with his words get me. It’s like walking through the animal shelter, and that one dog watches you, hoping you’ll be the one to take them home. And dammit if I don’t have a soft spot for animals. Especially cute puppies.

His face pleads with me and despite what some people may think, I do have a heart. I sigh and decide I’ll kick myself later.

“Two hours and I’m ordering pizza with veggies.” He pops up like a Jack-in-the-box springing to life.