Queenie fidgets with my sleeve, shoulders slumped, eyes still on my chest.

“It’s just . . . a really toxic relationship, which is why I try to avoid her. But she called from a number I didn’t recognize, and I got sucked into the conversation with her. She gets into my head, and then it’s a big spiral. I should’ve hung up as soon as I realized it was her, but I didn’t, so I went out and bought a crap load of junk food because it’s good fodder for wallowing in doubt and self-loathing.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“This is what happens every time I talk to her. I keep hoping one day it’s going to be different, and it never is. What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?” She blows out a breath and pats me on the chest. “And now you know how much of a mess I really am.”

“You’re not a mess, Queenie.”

“I’m my dad’s personal assistant, and I live in his pool house. When he was my age, he was raising a four-year-old on his own.”

I tuck her hair behind her ear. “That’s like comparing apples to oranges.”

“I’m surrounded by highly driven, insanely successful people every day. Tell me you wouldn’t feel like an underachiever.”

“You can’t measure yourself against your father, or any of the guys on the team. I get that it’s hard not to, especially when you have someone who’s supposed to be supportive and encouraging telling you to do the exact opposite. You just have to focus on what’s going to make you happy.”

“The things that make me happy aren’t exactly lucrative.”

“Money might make life cushier, but it doesn’t equal happiness, Queenie.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s burden.” She bangs her head against my chest a couple of times. “I’m sorry. I’m a downer tonight. This is not something you need to be dealing with, especially when you have the first exhibition game tomorrow.”

If I were less invested, I would take the out, but I want this woman and all the issues that potentially come with getting involved with the GM’s daughter. I cup her face between my hands. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Queenie. Then you might have some idea as to how incredible you really are.”

Our gazes lock and hold. For some reason I’m reminded of a lesson from my eleventh-grade English class, when we studied Shakespeare and the characters talked about humors, and my teacher likened physical chemistry to laser beams shooting out of people’s eyes.

And the whole thing suddenly makes sense. Because every time Queenie and I connect, it’s like there’s energy passing between us, the kind that keeps drawing us together, making it impossible not to give in to it. Which is exactly what I find myself doing. “There’s a reason I can’t stay away from you, even if it would be easier for both of us.” I dip down and press my lips to hers.

“It’s probably my mad blow job skills.”

“That’s just a bonus.” I take advantage of the fact that her mouth is open by stroking inside.

I’m honestly too tired to keep fighting against the pull, so instead of staying inside the lines we’ve drawn for ourselves, I tromp all over them. Like every other time we’ve had our tongues in each other’s mouths, it escalates quickly.

“I really tried to keep it platonic.” I kiss along the side of her neck, finding that sensitive spot behind her ear and grazing it with my teeth.

“I know. We were doing okay for a while. The ax throwing was almost a tipping point for me.” She pulls my shirt free from the back of my pants and runs her warm palm up my back.

“God, I love your hands on me.” I bite her earlobe, then start working my way across the edge of her jaw. “Why was the ax throwing almost a tipping point?”

Queenie angles her head to the side, giving me more access to her neck. “You looking so proper, throwing an ax like it was your job, wound me up. Your hard-on against my spine. All the touching.”

I pull back so I can look at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Definitely don’t stop. And if I’m being one hundred percent honest, I’d also love it if your face lips ended up making out with my vagina lips.”

I close my eyes, because seeing her expression and hearing those words does nothing to help my self-control. “Wait. I think we need to figure this out first, before we get carried away.”

Queenie blows out a breath. “Figure what out?”

“What’s happening between us.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. I was sad; you consoled me. We have chemistry and we’re acting on it.”

“It’s more than that, though.”