Chapter 7

Jon Morgan is walking toward me. I repeat, Jon Morgan is walking toward me!

The eyes I haven't been able to stop thinking about since I first saw them, fixing me frozen on the spot. He's joined by one of his teammates, by the looks of him. I can't look away, and neither do I want to; he's a sight to behold. Trying to act relaxed, I casually cross my legs over at the knee, and I don't miss the way Jon's eyes travel as my dress rides slightly higher up my thigh.

"Oh, holy hell. He's bringing Jensen Jones with him too," Kate squeaks out.

But just as they get a few steps away, he and his friend are stopped in their tracks as a stunning brunette jumps out in front of Jon. She wastes no time in bringing him into a hug, her perfectly round tits pressing against his chest.

"Oh, for God's sake," Kate drawls, and I can practically feel her eye roll without even looking at her face.

The girl wrapped around Jon is scintillating, just like the photos I saw on social media. Long legs, tiny model-like frame, and perfectly silky straight hair stopping just above her pert, round ass. I haven't seen her face, but I'm willing to bet that's not bad either. The fact that a girl like this is hanging off him, like he"s her last meal, does not shock me in the slightest, and it's likely they've been well acquainted with each other before. Am I being incredibly judgy? Yes. But I can't stop the slither of jealousy from rising within me, and I don't like that I'm feeling it. What does surprise me, however, is that despite Jon's new accessory, he hasn't looked at her once. She's clearly doing her best to divert his attention, but her valiant efforts are falling more than flat. It's kind of embarrassing, to be honest.

I decide I've had enough and turn back around to Kate, who arches an unimpressed brow at me."C'est la vie," I say and wave a hand in the air before standing up from my stool and grabbing my jacket. "I need another drink, in another bar."

Kate nods, understanding completely why I want to get out of here, but before I can pull on my coat, it"s whipped from my hands, and an imposing figure comes to sit on the empty stool next to me.

"Why are you leaving? I was on my way to say hi."

Jon towers over me and leans forward on the table, bringing his eye level a little closer to mine as he fixes me with a stern yet playful glare. "I've been replaying in my mind the moment we'd cross paths again, and none of those scenarios winds up with you running out on me so, please, take a seat."

What can I possibly say to that? All I can do is swallow thickly and inwardly curse myself for getting off this stool in the first place because now I must "gracefully" lift myself back on it. After a moment and once safely seated, I take a steadying breath and fight back the outbreak of butterflies unleashed in my stomach.

"Actually, I was going to get another drink." Sort of true, just from a different bar.

Jon smiles at my response, although I know he doesn't buy it. "Cosmo, right?"

I blink. "Uh, yeah."

He turns to look at the heaving bodies all lined up vying for space at the bar. "I've got it."

I press my lips together; he can't wait in that crazy line for me. "Oh no, it"s fine; there's no need to queue up for me."

But he simply lifts his arm, empty Cosmo glass in hand, and tips his chin toward a man standing at the other end of the room. In response, the man nods his head and makes his way over to the barman. With a small smirk tracing his lips, Jon turns back to me. "No problem, Angel."

Angel?

I fight to maintain my composure. "Thank you, but I was going to get one for my friend too." I look across the table to find Jensen, returning with a beer for himself and you guessed it, a cocktail for Kate. Smooth.

"So, tell me, what's a British lady like you doing in Seattle?"

I quirk a brow. "I live here."

Jon seems pleased with my response. "I see, and have you been over here long?"

"No, well, sort of. I moved to Seattle just over a year and a half ago, and it was going to be a temporary thing, but I've since decided to stay."

That smirk instantly grows wider. "Wow, you work fast."

I throw him a puzzled look.

"I mean, we've barely spoken beyond sharing a few heated glances, and you're already applying for permanent residence."

I can't help it; I blow out a hard laugh. "Nice try, but I work at Preston Preston in town, and they offered me a green card to stay and work for them."

I've got to hand it to him though, he sees an opportunity and goes for it. Watching me chuckle, his smile now meets his eyes, and I can confirm, it"s award-winning. At that moment, a Cosmo is placed in front of me, along with a beer for Jon, and I reach for my purse, but he's already beaten me to it.

"Put it on my tab, please."

"No problem, Mr. Morgan."

I'm guessing this is the owner by the suit he's wearing and the authoritative way he's been moving around the bar.

I turn back to Jon. "Does everyone do what you want?"

He cocks his head, eyelids slightly hooded. "I don't know, Angel, do they?"

I flush, hard. The heat from my cheeks traveling down to my core as I descend into a puddle. I'm thirty-nine years old, not eighteen, and I feel instantly annoyed at my uncontrollable physical reaction to this man.

Get it together, Felicity.

I re-group, taking a sip of my drink to buy me a couple of seconds.

We continue to talk, the conversation flowing with total ease, something I never experienced with Elliott, even in our strongest moments together.

Jon continues to order me drinks, which I accept but feel uncomfortable taking and frequently try to pay for, without success. He asks about my presence at the games, and I tell him about Jack and the season ticket I bought him for his birthday. At the mention of me being a mum and having an older child, he doesn't flinch, almost like he'd considered that I might be a few, or maybe a good ten, years older than his usual type.

"This all seems a little unfair," he says as another cocktail is set down in front of me.

"Well, I have offered to buy the last three rounds."

He throws his head back and laughs. "You're funny. No, that"s not what I'm referring to."

"I've stayed and talked to you, haven't I?"

He places his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "Wow, low blow, Angel." Leaning closer, his spicy cologne wafts over me, and it's intoxicating. "First you won't give me your number, and now we've been sitting here talking for hours, yet you still haven't told me your name."

Shit. I guess I haven't. You kind of skip over introductions when it comes to Jon Morgan. Everyone knows him.

"Felicity," I burst out. "It's Felicity."

He leans back in his stool and brings his bottom lip between his teeth. "That's a really pretty name."

"It means happiness."

Jon's dimples pop as he releases his lip and smiles. "I'd say your parents did a great job of choosing the perfect name."

At the mention of my parents, I look down at the table. Eight years since their death and it's still just as raw.

"Do you have family here in Seattle?"

I shake my head. "Only my son, Jack."

"I'm relieved to hear that was your son at the game. I was worried it might be your boyfriend or something."

I laugh. "Yeah I don't go for toyboys."

He arches a brow. "How old do you think I am?"

"It's kind of pointless guessing facts about you when every detail's plastered all over the internet."

I notice he frowns slightly when he says, "Not every detail."

I wonder what he means by that; the statement felt loaded. "You"re thirty-four," I respond.

"Been doing some research on me, have you, Felicity?"

The way my name sounds coming from his mouth sends me into a spin and the aching need that's been simmering within me all night returns tenfold.

I playfully pat his shoulder. "You wish."

"Babe, we should head out soon. I have an early Pilates class tomorrow, and it"s already past midnight," Kate chimes from across the table.

I look at Jon, and I wonder if that's a hint of disappointment across his face.

"Unless you want to stay and head back later…" Kate's eyes dart between me and Jon.

Tempting as it is to stay, I discipline and remind myself that if I stay here with him, there will likely be only one outcome: a one-night stand. And there's no way that's happening.

"Yeah, let's get going, it's pretty late for me too," I reply, pushing myself off the stool, realizing quickly just how much those cocktails have gone to my head.

Jon is busy looking at his phone before he pockets it and stands along with Jensen, with whom Kate has been getting cozy all night.

"Let me walk you out to the car," Jon says.

I turn to Kate, asking, "Have you ordered a cab, or do you want me to get it?"

But before she can answer, Jon places his hand on my lower back and hovers his mouth over the top of my head. "Already sorted, Angel."

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer, instead guiding me toward the door, saying bye to the owner on the way out.

Oh fuckety-fuck, does he think he's leaving with me?

I feel panic rise, and blurt out, "I'm not going home with you."

Jon glances down, offering me a sweet smile before taking my hand in his and interlacing our fingers. It's the first time our skin has properly touched, and a static charge surges through me, while I wonder if he felt it, too.

"I know, Felicity, but since you're leaving, I have no reason to stay either."

I can't help but gush a little at that. He's forward and confident with me, but it doesn't make me uncomfortable.

As we step out into the night air, Jon lets go of my hand and reaches across for the door of an executive black SUV. I guess this is where we part ways, and he heads home.

But he doesn't get in, instead, opening the door and waving his hand inside. "Your Royal Highness," he says, putting on his best British accent. "Just let the driver know where you need to go."

For the hundredth time tonight, my jaw hangs open. "You booked this for us?"

He shrugs like it's no big deal. "Just wanted to make sure you get home safe."

I look like a codfish; I'm sure I do.

"Oh my god! That"s so sweet!" Kate gasps before she says her goodbyes and climbs in.

"Um, well, thank you." I step forward to get into the car, but Jon puts a hand gently on my elbow.

"You're welcome. But please, don't make me ask for your number again. Since your phone has survived our second encounter, I think it's only fair I get to text or call it from time to time."

Giving him my number is probably a bad idea; I barely know the guy. Yet something inside me trusts him. "Okay, but you need to know, I don't respond to booty calls."

His eyebrows shoot up as he hands me his phone, and I type my number in.

"I didn't have you pinned as a booty-call kind of girl. I promise to be on my best behavior."

With that, I quickly step into the car before I'm tempted to do something totally crazy like stick my tongue down his throat. "Goodnight, Jon. Thank you for the drinks and ride."

He rests his forearms on the door frame above my head as he casts a discrete glance over my body and face. "Sweet dreams, Angel."

And with that, he shuts the door, leaving me a hot mess and debating which toy is going to be summoned when I get home.