“No, not like that. Why don’t you all go out on the deck? We’ll get in the pool.”

“Come on,” Ten-Spot said to the women. “Nice to meet you, Haven.”

“You too, Ten-Spot,” she said. “Is today your birthday?”

“Well, technically yesterday. But yeah.”

“Happy birthday.”

Ten-Spot grinned. “Thanks.”

“I want to stay here with you, Trevor,” Petra said, mimicking a very obvious pout so her glossy full lips looked even fuller.

Trevor squeezed her hand. “Just go on outside, Petra. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.” Petra pouted some more, then grabbed his face and kissed him. Rather sloppily. Trevor was the one who broke the kiss.

Ick. Whatever.

After they closed the door to the back deck, Trevor turned to her. “Sorry. I thought you’d be in bed.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This is your house. And I was in bed.”

He didn’t say anything else, so she did. “Look, I don’t want to cramp your . . . recreational time, Trevor. So maybe we need to talk about the whole living arrangement thing. I can stay at a hotel. The network will pay for it.”

“Nothing to talk about. I want you here with me. There’s plenty of space here.”

But she wasn’t sure it was going to work for her. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You have fun with your friends. I’m going upstairs to bed now.”

“You’re welcome to join us, you know.”

The sounds of squeals and laughter drew her attention to the pool. She caught a flash of naked br**sts, then shook her head.

“No, that’s okay. I’m tired. Besides, we have a business arrangement, remember?”

He gave her a look. “Sure. Whatever you say, Haven.” He went to the fridge and grabbed several beers. “I’ll see you in the morning then, right?”

“Right.”

Her stomach tightened, though she had no idea why she cared where he went and who he went with. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care.

She walked up the stairs and went to her room, shutting the door behind her. She couldn’t shut out the sounds of laughter from below, though. And the memories came flooding back of every girl Trevor had been with in college. All the beautiful cheerleaders he’d dated, and how she’d longed for him to notice her as something other than his tutor.

He never had because he’d only been interested in how she could help him pass his classes.

She grabbed her iPod and shoved her earbuds in her ears to drown out the sounds from outside.

TREVOR SAT AT THE EDGE OF THE POOL WHILE TEN-Spot frolicked with the girls.

This had been a mistake. He’d known it, but Ten had hooked up with Audrey at the club, and Petra had come along for the ride.

Petra wasn’t even his type. He didn’t go for stacked blondes, especially the ones who were only interested in sleeping with a jock. The girl was obvious. She’d been grinding against him all night long, practically giving him a blowjob in the VIP section of the club. Trevor liked sex as much as the next guy, but he’d like to think he’d grown up a little and enjoyed being the aggressor. Plus, some of these women were a little too aggressive.

What the hell had happened to subtlety and seduction and letting things happen in their own time?

Maybe he was getting old, or just damn tired of the game.

Or maybe he was tired of women like Petra who were only interested in the exposure.

He didn’t want a girlfriend, anyway. He only wanted to focus on his career. And he was supposed to be concentrating on Haven, on making her feel better.

This wasn’t cutting it. He had to work harder, should have tried to persuade her to go out with him tonight.

Instead, he’d ended up with the drunk blonde in his pool who couldn’t care less which athlete she was with, as long as she got to say she slept with someone from the team.

Looked like Ten-Spot was going to get lucky with both of them, because after Trevor made it clear to Petra that he wasn’t interested, she’d pouted for about three seconds before joining Audrey in making Ten’s night.

Which suited Trevor just fine. He was tired, and he needed to figure out how to better help Haven.

He’d do better tomorrow.

Chapter Four

WHEN TREVOR GOT UP THE NEXT MORNING, HE FOUND Haven in the sunroom, the smell of coffee drawing him there. He grabbed the pot and poured himself a cup.

“Hey, you’re up already.”

“Yes.” She sat at the table, her laptop and notepad sitting next to her. “Hammond was here early, cleaning up in the kitchen. He makes great coffee, too.” She looked around. “Where are your . . . friends?”