The corner of his mouth lifted. “You mean how do I manage not to be impulsive?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled.
A wide smile spread across his face. Whoa, he was fine. Like whoa. Which was not the point. Yes, it was a good distraction, but it was not the point. He shrugged. “It’s just the way I am.” He looked away. Just the way he was? She wasn’t so sure. Before she could travel down that potentially fraught path, he released her hands and pointed at her.
“There are going to be a bunch of hungry folks here in the near future. You got us in this mess, and you’re going to get us out of it.”
The last of her nervousness released its grip on her stomach. She nodded in appreciation. “Bullying. Okay, that’s a technique one could use, I suppose.”
He nodded. “Coaches love to use it. Look, you obviously thought it was a good idea, and you’re nervous, which is understandable. That means you care. Everyone gets nervous.”
“Even you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, even me, Mr. Robot. Every time I step on a football field.”
What? “You’re one of the best defensive players in the league, or at least that’s what all your fanpeople say when they come in here to buy cupcakes and end up gushing in your face.” He side-eyed her. She shrugged. “What? It’s true.”
“Are the nerves as much as when I was in high school or college and knew scouts were watching me? No. I’ve been playing football a long time. But I still want to do a good job every time I step out on the field. Knowing I’ve done everything in my power to prepare calms me.”
She nodded. “Take comfort in my preparation.”
“Exactly.”
“Anything else make you nervous? And be honest! What happens in the supply closet stays in the supply closet,” she reminded him when he looked like he might object.
He quieted and leaned against the wall next to her, his shoulder brushing hers before he put another few inches between them. She bit her lip before an objection could slip past.
She was becoming a greedy little witch when it came to contact with him. She would take it whenever and however she could. She would examine why later. Right now, she wanted to know what made him tick. What made him Donovan. She would also examine the why for that later. In this moment, she just wanted the knowledge.
“Failure,” he said simply.
She wasn’t surprised by the answer. He set a high bar for himself. The question was why? But she didn’t reply, sensing he was still struggling with how to continue or if he even should.
He gripped his arms, his eyes closing for a moment. “Growing up, financial stability was nonexistent. You already know about the lemonade stand. My father was—is—addicted to gambling. He was always searching for that next big hit, certain it would happen on his next bet.”
“Did it?”
Donovan let out a wry chuckle. “Yeah, occasionally. Just enough for him to hunger for the next win, making an even bigger bet. My mom did her best to hold down the fort, but that’s hard to do when you never know when your husband is going to empty out the bank account.” He turned toward her, leaning his right shoulder on the wall. “I don’t take risks. I think logically. I was good at football and knew it could give my entire family a financial stability we could only dream of if I stuck to it and made the pros. So I did, and it did.”
“You succeeded.” She reached for his hand, needing to offer the comfort he so willingly gave her. Needing that connection, as simple and pure as it was, to him.
He squeezed her hand in return. “I did, which allowed me to take a chance, the first chance I’ve really taken since I was a kid, when my best friends convinced me to open a cupcake shop. I want Sugar Blitz to succeed, but it’s been tougher than I anticipated and I’m learning all over again that nothing is guaranteed.”
Jada groaned. “And here I am adding to the uncertainty and messing stuff up.”
Another wry laugh slipped out. “Yes and no.”
She inspected the sharp, fascinating angles of his profile. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not going to let an impulsive woman who thinks nothing of telling me exactly what she feels whenever she feels it to destroy my business.”
“Hey!” She reached out to push his chest.
His hand caught hers before she made contact. His palm surrounded hers. Her breath stuttered when he tugged her closer, his heat surrounding her. “Jada the worker doesn’t make me nervous. But Jada the woman does.”