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“Libby, please wait,” I heard from behind me as I tried to get away.
Jax... was Stephen Petersen. My one night stand was suddenly the billionaire owner of a resort. And a judge! What had I done? If anyone found out, Erica would be destroyed. Her Olympic dreams would be over before they even began.
Another thought ran through my mind. He’d lied to me—told me he was passing through. It was the frat boys all over again—giving me a fake name, deceiving me so they could sleep with me and then laughing when I found out.
There were tears in my eyes when I turned. “How could you! I know it was just fun, but I thought you were better than that!” Did I have chocolate at home? Even the bitter baking stuff would do; I needed to eat this pain in my heart away.
His beautiful green eyes were large and concerned. “Libby. What are you doing here?”
“Like you don’t know, Jax. Or should I say, Stephen,” I said accusingly. “Were you so embarrassed sleeping with a plus size that you needed a fake name?”
Now he frowned. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed? And what fake name?”
It was hard to be furious at someone when they didn’t know why you were angry. But I managed it. “You said your name was Jax!”
“It is.”
“They said your name was Stephen!”
“It is. Jax is what my friends call me. It’s a nickname.” His hands found my shoulders. He looked into my eyes, concerned. “Libby, what’s this all about? And why are you at my work?” His facial expression changed. “You’re not stalking me, are you? Because as special as last night was, stalking is not cool.”
“I’m not stalking you,” I said defensively. It was even harder to be furious at someone when they thought you were the one in the wrong.
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked gently.
“Jax,” I said with hesitation. “My sister is here for the tryouts.”
He frowned. Then his eyes widened as he realized what that meant.
“You’re a judge. Jax, I think we may have made a very serious mistake.”