Free Tell Me a Secret by Ann Everett

sure.
    He convinced himself he wouldn’t sleep with her. She deserved a faithful man and he’d never committed to anyone. She should be wooed, courted, loved by someone who wouldn’t hurt her, and he didn’t woo, court, or love.

Flirting is the gentle art of making a man feel pleased with himself.
    ~Helen Rowland

    Maggie started the day by transporting costumes to the recital hall, and then a trip to the hair salon. She admitted it was silly to be nervous, but Jace and his parents were coming to the performance and the thought of dancing in front of them gave her the jitters.
    He’d insisted on taking her, pointing out she’d be at his game, so it made sense to leave from there. As much as she looked forward to it, she kept reminding herself it wasn’t a date, only transportation. Maybe if she flirted, it could turn into more. The truth was she wanted it to be, but Jace wasn’t the kind of man to commit to one woman. She pushed the thought from her mind. No need in punishing herself.
    With Sarah right behind, they climbed the stadium steps to their seats.  
    In the first half, Jace caught several passes, but failed to score. After half-time, the team came back fired up, ready to play hard and he put six points on the board.
    Once the game ended, Sarah said good-bye while Maggie waited by Jace’s truck.
    “Hey,” he yelled when he saw her. “What’d you do to your hair?”
    “Straightened it. Why?”
    “I like it better the other way.” He ran a strand between his fingers.
    Her skin warmed. “Really? But it’s so…”
    “Wild. That’s what I like about it. Where are your glasses?”
    “I don’t wear them when I perform. I have contacts. Are you sure you’re okay? You went down hard on that last tackle.”
    “Should have had that pass.”
    “Are you kidding? You were clearly overthrown. I’ve seen you run that route a hundred times and you were exactly where you should have been. Grant misjudged and overthrew the ball. It wasn’t catchable.”
    A brow lifted and he grinned. “Listen to you talking football.”
    He opened the door and she climbed in. Walking to the driver’s side, he slipped behind the wheel, eased out of the parking lot and headed toward the rehearsal hall.
    The late afternoon sun bathed his face in a warm glow. When he glanced over and met her gaze, he smiled and she thought I should not be thinking what I’m thinking.
    “You nervous?”  
    “A little. Why?”
    “You had an odd expression.”
    “I hope I don’t fall on my butt,” she said, but thought, it’s because I was picturing you naked.
    “Damn, I forgot my play book! I’ve gotta go back and get it.”
    Maggie flinched. For a minute she thought he’d read her mind, then realized what he’d said. Once she did, she launched into a screaming fit. “No, no! You can’t go back!”
    “It won’t be any trouble; it’ll take five minutes. You won’t be late.”
    “No! That’s not it. I don’t do turn-around-go-back.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I never turn around and go back. It’s bad luck.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding me. Miss Summa-cum-laude is superstitious? That’s crazy.”
    “I don’t care. If you go back, I want out of this truck. I mean it.”
    “Okay, calm down. What else are you superstitious about? Let me guess. Hmm, broken mirror, seven years bad luck?”
    “No.”
    “Step on a crack, break yo momma’s back?”  
    “No.”
    “Oh, okay, I got it. This one for sure. Walking under a ladder.”
    She smirked and tried to sound reasonable. “Everyone knows it’s stupid to walk under a ladder. That’s dangerous.”
    He gave her a sideways glance and laughed again. “This is too funny. Do you consult your Magic Eight Ball about our games?”
    “Go ahead, make fun of me. I’ll bet you’re superstitious, too.”
    “No, I’m not.”
    “Do you eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day?”
    “Yeah, but that’s a tradition, not a superstition. There’s a difference you