Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: The Question She Couldn’t Answer

Jackson still had her pinned against the heavy wooden door. He wasn’t actually threatening her. He was mostly just blocking her escape, his large frame acting as a complete barricade.

He leaned an inch closer.

"Then why were you watching me?" Jackson asked again.

Zoya absolutely refused to look nervous. Her heart was beating entirely too fast, but she kept her face completely blank. She reached up and calmly smoothed a wrinkle from the lapel of her sharp blazer.

"I was here for a double blind date," Zoya stated smoothly. "And I happened to see you."

Jackson paused. His dark eyes searched her face.

"A double blind date?" Jackson repeated slowly.

"Yes," Zoya said.

He actually looked genuinely surprised. He dropped his arm from the door and took a tiny half-step back.

"You?" Jackson asked.

Zoya’s eyes immediately narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Jackson replied quickly.

"It clearly meant something," Zoya pushed.

Jackson almost smiled. A look of complete amusement crossed his face.

"I just didn’t expect you to agree to one," Jackson said. "You hate blind dates. You hate strangers. You hate loud bars."

Zoya folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"Neither did I," Zoya muttered softly.

Zoya desperately needed to change the subject before he started digging into exactly why she had broken all her own rules tonight.

She looked toward the closed door. Then she looked directly back at him. She tried her absolute best to sound completely casual.

"So," Zoya asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who is she to you?"

Jackson’s expression instantly changed. He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. He immediately understood.

"The woman outside?" Jackson asked.

Zoya gave him a completely flat, unimpressed look.

"I didn’t come in here to discuss your interior decorating," Zoya said drily.

Jackson let out a quiet, deep laugh. The sound completely filled the small suite.

"She’s a client," Jackson answered simply.

Zoya blinked. Her defensive wall completely stalled.

"A client?" Zoya asked.

"Yes," Jackson nodded. "Her corporate company is interested in sponsoring one of the youth academy programs. We were supposed to be having a brief business discussion over drinks."

Zoya thought about the woman in the red dress. She thought about the way the woman had completely wrapped herself around his bicep.

"Clients usually don’t hang off your arm," Zoya pointed out sharply.

Jackson let out a heavy, tired sigh. He ran a hand through his dark hair.

"She was trying to turn a business dinner into something else," Jackson explained quietly. "Which is exactly why I walked away."

Zoya’s expression suddenly became slightly embarrassed. The hot irritation in her chest immediately evaporated. She had completely misread the entire situation.

Jackson watched the subtle shift in her dark eyes. He didn’t miss a single thing.

"Were you jealous?" Jackson asked.

Zoya immediately scoffed. She threw her head back slightly.

"No," Zoya lied perfectly.

"Really?"

"Obviously."

"You followed me," Jackson pointed out logically.

"I was curious."

"You followed me into a private, restricted hallway."

"I wanted to know what was happening," Zoya argued firmly.

"And then you waited directly outside my door," Jackson finished, tilting his head.

Zoya went completely silent. She clamped her mouth shut. She had absolutely no legal defense for that.

Jackson’s smile slowly grew. It wasn’t a mocking smile. It was entirely teasing.

"Sounds exactly like jealousy," Jackson murmured.

"It sounds like poor judgment," Zoya shot back instantly.

That made him actually laugh out loud.

Zoya glared at him. Her cheeks felt completely warm.

"Don’t laugh," Zoya ordered strictly.

"I can’t help it," Jackson grinned.

Jackson finally took a real step back, giving her some breathing room. He leaned against the back of a leather sofa in the middle of the suite and crossed his arms.

He completely turned the interrogation around.

"What about your date?" Jackson asked.

Zoya looked away. She stared at a painting on the wall.

"He was fine," Zoya said.

"Fine?"

"Yes."

"Did you like him?"

A heavy pause settled over the room. Zoya carefully picked her words.

"He was perfectly acceptable," Zoya answered stiffly.

Jackson raised a dark eyebrow. "That’s not an answer, Zoya."

"He was nice," Zoya tried again.

"That’s still not an answer."

Zoya let out a long, frustrated sigh. Her shoulders dropped slightly.

"No," Zoya admitted.

Jackson’s expression suddenly became completely unreadable. The teasing smile completely vanished from his lips.

"Why?" Jackson asked quietly.

Zoya almost said the absolute truth. She almost said, Because he wasn’t you.

She caught herself at the very last second. She swallowed the terrifying words down.

"We didn’t have anything in common," Zoya said instead.

Jackson looked at her for a very long moment. His dark eyes were completely intense.

"You used to say that exact same thing about me," Jackson noted softly.

Zoya’s eyes met his. She remembered their freshman year. She remembered telling him they made absolutely zero logical sense.

"You were different," Zoya whispered.

"How?"

She hesitated. She gripped her elbows tightly.

"You were irritating," Zoya said defensively.

Jackson smiled softly. "You liked that."

"I tolerated it."

"You missed it."

Zoya’s expression tightened. She didn’t deny it.

The quiet banter completely faded. The conversation became much quieter, much heavier.

Jackson watched her carefully.

"Did you really come back here because you were worried about her?" Jackson asked softly.

Zoya didn’t answer. She looked down at the carpet.

Jackson took one slow step closer.

"Or were you worried about me?" Jackson asked.

Zoya felt her throat close up. She tried to find a sharp comeback. She tried to find a logical, completely detached legal argument to protect herself.

She couldn’t find one.

"I don’t know," Zoya finally admitted. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

That answer completely caught him off guard.

Because Zoya Ivanov always knew. She always had an exact answer. She always had a strict rule. She always had a perfectly calculated way to immediately regain control of any situation.

But right now, standing in the dim light of the suite, she didn’t.

Jackson looked at her face. He saw the complete internal conflict tearing her apart.

"Why did you even go?" Jackson asked gently.

Zoya finally looked up at him.

"Because I thought it was time," Zoya said quietly.

"Time for what?"

"To stop avoiding things," Zoya answered.

His expression completely softened. He understood exactly what she meant. She was trying to force herself to move on.

"And how did that go?" Jackson asked gently.

Zoya gave him a completely dry, utterly exhausted look.

"Terribly," Zoya said honestly.

Jackson laughed quietly.

Zoya looked at him, and against her own absolute will, she almost smiled. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Then, she immediately realized what she was doing and forced her face back into a strict frown.

Jackson didn’t laugh anymore. He just looked at her.

"Zoya," Jackson said softly.

"What?" Zoya asked.

"Are you still trying to prove you don’t want me?"

The question hit her so hard it actually stole the breath right out of her lungs.

Zoya immediately looked away. Her eyes burned.

The answer was completely, terrifyingly obvious. She had spent the last seven years controlling absolutely everything. She controlled her massive career. She controlled her daily schedule. She strictly controlled her relationships. She buried her emotions under files and court cases.

She had built a perfectly safe, entirely isolated fortress.

And then Jackson Pierce walked back into a boardroom and somehow made all those carefully locked doors start swinging wide open again.

Zoya finally closed her eyes.

"I don’t know what I’m trying to prove anymore," Zoya said quietly.

It was the most honest, vulnerable thing she had said in seven years.

Jackson didn’t tease her. He didn’t push her against the door and demand a massive confession. He just stood there, completely steady and incredibly patient.

"Then maybe," Jackson said softly, "stop proving it."