Page 33 of The Player

Bailey crunched on a Funyun. “What did you say?”

“I told him we’ll figure it out.” Nicole sat beside her and stole the bag.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“You’re going to break your no-athlete rule, aren’t you?”

Nicole kept her eyes on the television and didn’t answer.

“Nikki.”

“What?” Pulling a Funyun from the bag, she turned to Bailey.

“It’s okay to say you like him, and it’s okay to go out with him. It’s not like you’re getting married. It’s just a date.”

“A non-date.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Is the steak cooked all right? You’ve barely touched it.” Across the table, Cedric was studying Nicole like he could already tell something was off.

“It’s perfect.”

He was still smiling a little as he sipped his wine, his eyes on her over the rim of the glass. There was so much love in them that she almost had to look away.

The service at Berman’s had been flawless, and the food was the best Nicole had eaten in months, probably since the last time she’d been there.

Conversation had come easily too. Cedric had told her about his interview for a job in Los Angeles the weekend before. He thought it had gone well, and apparently he was right, because they’d invited him back for a second interview in a couple of weeks. They’d ordered a bottle of wine to celebrate, and even though Nicole wasn’t twenty-one, no one had asked for her ID.

Talking about school had been easy enough. But when he asked how things were going at home, all she could manage was, “Fine.” From the look he gave her, he didn’t believe a word of it. Thankfully, he hadn’t pushed, and he’d moved on to asking whether she’d given any more thought to pledging in the spring. He already knew the answer was no, but she’d been grateful enough for the change of subject not to call him on it.

By the time their entrées arrived, the evening had settled into something a lot like old times. Even so, Nicole felt guilty, almost as though she were cheating on him—which made no sense when they weren’t even back together. But Cedric hadn’t brought her here just to catch up. He wanted her back, and sometime over the past couple of days, she’d figured out what her answer was going to be.

She couldn’t go back to him.

The question was there every time he smiled at her, every time she caught that little bit of worry on his face, even though he hadn’t asked it yet.

After the server cleared their plates, Cedric said, “I’ve missed you.” Whatever he saw on her face made his smile disappear. “We’re not getting back together. Are we.”

Before she could get a word out, her eyes were already filling up, and then the server was beside them with two dessert menus, just as cheerful as he’d been all evening.

“The chef recommends the warm butter cake with bourbon peaches or the flourless chocolate torte with raspberry sauce,” he said, setting a menu in front of each of them. “Would you like a few minutes?”

“I’m going to pass,” Cedric said without opening his menu.

“Me too.” Nicole pushed hers back toward the server.

His smile slipped. He glanced between them, scooped up the menus, and got out of there.

Nicole wanted to reach across the table and take Cedric’s hand, but she didn’t know whether that would comfort him or make things worse. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Cedric lowered his eyes to the table. “Me too, Nicole.”