by KB Winters
“I wish.” His tone changed, sounding more clipped, like something about the question, or perhaps the answer, irritated him. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s right. Paris told me.” Great, now I was doing that annoying teenage girl thing. Asking questions that I already knew the answers to in order to keep him on the phone.
“You saw her today?”
“Yeah, we had lunch. She’s all messed up because of an argument with Robby.”
“Trust me, I know. I got the man version of that the entire flight here.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. I had an easy out. I don’t know if I could have handled that for longer than an hour.”
Cody chuckled. “It’s no sweat. What do you think? Those two gonna get their shit together?”
“They will.” I smiled. “They’re probably sexting right now.”
Cody roared with laughter. “Hot.”
I blushed at the blurted comment. “It’s kinda their thing.”
“What about you?”
“No! Not at all. The internet is forever…”
“Damn, I could use a couple naughty snaps to get me through the night.”
A lightning bolt of hot electricity shot through me and I tensed, all the blood in my body rushing between my legs. The idea of taking sexy pictures for Cody—and thinking about what he would do once he had them in his possession—made me hot and wet. I ached with desire for him.
“I thought I made it clear that what we did was a one-night thing, Cody.”
“You don’t believe that bullshit and neither do I. We’re too good together to only have one night.”
I wanted to argue, but everything died on my lips. He was right.
Damn him.
“Well, I’m not sending you naked pics, and I sure as hell am not going to get on video chat with you and get freaky.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“It has nothing to do with that and you know it,” I argued. I didn’t think Cody would blast my photos or videos all over the place, but he was a celebrity. Someone could get access to his computer and then I’d be ruined. “I make children’s computer games and apps for a living. It wouldn’t look good for me to be caught sending sexts and homemade porn to some famous baseball guy.”
Cody laughed. “I guess that’s true. It doesn’t matter. I’d rather have the real thing anyway.”
I sucked in a breath at the promise in his voice and wished I could see his eyes. I knew exactly what they would look like. Large dark pupils, a sparkling blaze, and a hungry, lusty desire. They would linger on me—every curve and hollow—making me feel exposed, vulnerable, and sexy all at the same time.
“I was thinking seven o’clock tomorrow night. That way I can get in a shower and wash away all that nasty ass airplane air. Gotta be fresh for my lady.”
I snapped back to reality. “Seven? Tomorrow? Wait, what?”
Had I agreed to a date while off in la-la land?
“You. Me. Tomorrow. Seven.”
“Cody, I—”
“Chelsea, come on, stop fighting me on this. You want me. I want you. There’s no reason to hide it. Okay? The cat’s already out of the fuckin’ bag and halfway down the street, all right?”
I squeezed my eyes closed. He was right, but damn it, I wished he wasn’t. It was easier to argue with him than it would be to keep getting close to him and try to keep my heart under lock and key. He was abrasive, demanding, arrogant, and cocky, but there was something else lurking under the bravado and ego. And that part of him had my attention and I knew that once I uncovered it—I’d want to keep it all to myself.
Which was probably a big mistake. It wasn’t wise to want things that you couldn’t have. It would only lead to heartache and disappointment.
“I have to work,” I said, my tone casual but with enough force, I hoped he’d back off. I couldn’t hold up my defenses forever.
“Chelsea, why do you insist on making this so difficult?”
“I’m not, Cody. I’ve actually made it quite simple. You wanted a night with me, and I wanted one with you. We don’t need to go any farther.”
“We don’t need to, but why the hell shouldn’t we?”
I opened my mouth, but there weren’t any words to answer his question. He chuckled and I frowned. He knew he had me. “I have work to do, Cody. I’m sure I’ll see you at a game or with Robby and Paris one of these days.”
“Chelsea—”
“Goodbye.”
I clicked off of the call before he could convince me to part ways with my sanity and draw me back into his web. It was hard enough to get him out of my head. One more night in his arms and I’d be lost for good.
16
Cody
“Slippery little minx…” I chuckled to myself and set the phone aside. That was fine. It was all a part of the game and I knew the cards she was holding in her hand. It was only a matter of time before I could get her to fold.
I pushed up from the hot tub where I’d been warming up after an ice treatment on my shoulder. It was all part of the deal. It was my job to go out and lay down fire on the field and then when I got off the field, a team of people worked to put me back together. As nice as the hot tub was, I was ready to get back to my room where I could continue to explore the nasty thoughts about Chelsea that I’d been batting around all day. They would require some privacy. Maybe I’d take a picture of myself lying in bed, shirt off, abs flexed, and send it to her with a little note. Give her a little something to dream about.
I grinned as I remembered her confessing, in a throaty, breathless voice, that she’d fantasized about me after we first met. The idea of her slipping her fingers under the covers, pleasuring herself late in the night, with my name on her lips. Fuck that was sexy…
“Wright!”
I hurried to wrap a towel around my waist and then stripped my shorts off underneath. My bulge popped, creating a slight tent in the towel, but I didn’t care. Robby wasn’t gonna be staring at my cock. At least he better not be…I’d kick his fuckin’ ass.
Judging by the smile on his face as he got lost in a pair of stripper’s double D’s the night before, he was as straight as an arrow.
“Hey, man,” he said, catching up to me. “You all done here? A bunch of us are getting on the bus to go out.”
“Nah, man. I’m gonna go hit the hay.” I looked at him, remembering what Chelsea had said. She’d put her money on him and Paris get busy on video chat all night. “You’re not gonna go call your woman?”
Robby glanced down at his feet. “She didn’t take my call.”
“Oh.” I shook my head. “Shit. I guess Chelsea misjudged that one…”
“Chelsea?” His chin shot back up and he arched a brow at me.
“Just got off the phone with her.” I held up my hand holding the phone and waved it back and forth a couple of times. “She went to lunch with Paris today.”
“I see. What’d Paris say about me?”
I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Go back to the hotel and call her yourself.”
“She didn’t answer. I just fuckin’ said that.”
I leaned in. “Then try again. Damn, man. I’m no love doctor but this seems pretty basic.”
Robby grinned and punched me on the shoulder. “I like that. Love doctor.”
I snorted. It was a completely inapplicable title. “Let’s just hope some sports gossip mag didn’t catch you taking shots from that stripper’s tits last night…”
Robby laughed. “She would just be pissed I didn’t bring her with me. She loves strippers.”
“Damn. Now I see why you put a ring on it!”
Robby cracked up as he started out of the locker room. “I’m gonna go get a drink and then I’ll head back to the hotel.”
“All right, man. Take it easy.” I waved as he left and then crossed over to where my shit was stashed. I dressed and glanced around at the empty room. I’d lingered in the hot tub, talking to Chelsea, an
d in the meantime all the other players and staff had cleared out. It was almost eerily quiet.
Until…
I turned at the tap of stiletto heels and my jaw dropped open. Summer strut across the room, a megawatt smile firmly in place on her delicate face, and a sway to her hips that could only mean one thing. Her seventy-year-old, millionaire boyfriend couldn’t keep it up and she wanted to get good and fucked.
Shit.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled, thankful that I’d slipped into my jeans before she arrived. Though she could have been lurking in the doorway watching the show. With the press badge around her neck and her showcase of cleavage there was nowhere she couldn’t go.
“I came to see you,” she purred, stepping close enough that her perfume carried over, enveloping me for the second time in two days. “I was waiting outside, but you were dawdling. Everything okay with your shoulder?” She reached out and brushed my bare skin, her eyes taking in the rest of my torso.
I grabbed her wrist and held it out in front of me. She didn’t falter, never losing her self-assured smile. “I don’t want to see you.”
She stuck her lip out in a spectacular pout. It was the same one she used to get me to stay in bed for ten more minutes when I was supposed to be going to class or to get me to stay in with her when the rest of my college teammates were going out drinking.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because we’re not together. We’re not even friends. You made that pretty clear once I said I wanted to move on with my life,” I replied, flashes of that final conversation coming back to me, each packing an emotional punch.
“What did you expect me to say, Cody? You thought that after three years I’d be willing to follow you around and pretend like we were friends? I was supposed to be cool with watching from the sidelines while you went out and got drafted and launched into this big, exciting, new life without me?”
“Summer…don’t.” I ducked my chin. “Don’t do this. It’s not going to get you what you want.”
“How do you know what I want?” Her question snapped through the room like the lash of a whip. I jerked my eyes to hers and watched the fire blazing as she stared at me. “You never took into consideration what I wanted. You’re the most selfish man I’ve ever met, Cody Wright.”
“Then what are you doing here?” I asked, releasing her wrist in a flinging motion once I realized I was still grasping it. “Why are you with the team? Why are you in this locker room? Why are you even talking to me if I’m such a piece of shit?”
Her eyes flashed, more angry than sentimental. “Because I’m still in love with you.”
“No, you’re not.” I pulled my shirt on, suddenly feeling too exposed. “You’re not in love with me, Summer. You’re in love with the fame and fortune that comes with what I’m doing. You wanted to be a baller’s wife since day-fuckin’-one. Don’t you think I saw through you from the beginning? You picked me like some old geezer picks a fuckin’ racehorse at the track. You looked around the campus and watched all of the athletes, studied us like we were fuckin’ animals trained to perform, and then you latched onto me. You wanted to be with me, marry me, have my kids. Maybe you loved me then, but that was after the fact. A side effect, not the reason you wanted me.”
“Cody—”
I held up a hand, silencing her. “No. I’m not going to listen to this. I’m sorry I hurt you all those years ago. I am. But it’s been a long time. I’ve moved on and so should you.”
I pushed past her. “Go home, Summer.”
“This isn’t about money, or fame, Cody!” Her footsteps came after me and I stopped near the door. I rounded on her. “I already told you who I’m with now. Willis is wealthier than you’ll ever be. He gives me everything I want. I bat my eyes and it appears. It’s easy. But that’s my whole point…it doesn’t matter to me because I want to be with you. I want what we had.”
“Then go find it with someone else. We have burned too many bridges to ever go back to the way it was before.”
Her eyes filled with glossy tears. “We can fix it…”
“I’m seeing someone else, Summer. I’m happy. I don’t wish you ill will, but you need to leave me alone.”
“You’re seeing someone?” She genuinely seemed shocked by the statement. “Like, dating?”
I set my jaw and gave a firm nod. “Yes.”
She folded her arms. “That’s not what I heard…”
“What are you talking about?”
“Before I came here, I did a little digging. You have a certain reputation…and it’s not the kind that makes me think you’re telling me the truth right now. Everyone I talked to said you don’t date. You use women to get your rocks off and then never call them again. From what I can tell, you haven’t had anything meaningful since me.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me that she’d done her homework. That was classic Summer. Smart, ambitious, and ruthless when necessary.
“It’s new.”
“And made up,” she fired back without blinking.
My fists went tight. “Her name is Chelsea and she’s very real. She’ll be sitting in my section at the next game. You’ll be there next to your boyfriend-a-saurus. See if I’m lying.”
I whipped around and stalked from the room. “Leave me alone, Summer. This conversation is done.”
She didn’t follow after me this time, but as I ducked into the hall that led out of the stadium, a sinking feeling settled into the pit of my stomach, and I knew that while the conversation was done—the situation was only just beginning.
17
Chelsea
“And so, I present to you, Lucky the clown fish’s next big adventure! Pause for music…” I waited a beat, and then flourished with my arms at the crescendo of the “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” theme. “Lucky Plays Fishball!”
The fish didn’t seem interested. It was times like these that I needed a dog. At least they would have the decency to look at me while I held mockup presentations.
I sighed and set my laser pointer on the coffee table. I took a step back and considered the oversize poster board I’d patched together with finalized versions of the sketches and drawings I’d started a week earlier. I had four days left until my big presentation and the nerves were already gripping a hold of me and making it hard to think about anything that wasn’t related to the game.
Which was good, because if I slowed down, I’d remember that it had already been a week since Cody called and I’d shot down his offer for a date. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d hung up the phone and knew—or thought I did—that within a few days’ time, I’d get a call for his second—or was it third? —attempt at talking me into going out with him.
But so far, crickets.
Paris thought I should call him. I’d shot that idea down hard, hoping to finally get my point across to her.
And hell, in the meantime, I’d got a lot of work done. So it had all worked out just fine.
I went through my speech once more and then put everything away, my brain too fried from a day at the computer to try one more time. I had four days to get it right. There was plenty of time. I went upstairs and started to change out of my business attire—I found it easier to practice presentations and take myself seriously when I wasn’t in yoga pants with three days’ worth of oily hair. I stripped the navy blazer and was working on removing my matching slacks when the doorbell rang.
“Pizza time!” I grinned. I glanced down at myself, figured I was decent even though my bra was peeking out from under my camisole, and went down the stairs. “I’m coming!” I shouted, snagging my purse from the table off to the side of the front door before throwing it open. “Coming!”
I drew in a sharp breath. The man on the porch wasn’t holding a pizza. He was holding a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red and white roses. And a signature grin that made me want to roll my eyes and melt into a puddle all at the same time.
“Normally, I have to
work a little harder to get an ‘I’m coming’ but hell, it’s cool if you started the party without me too, sugar.”
I fought off the twinges of heat shooting between my legs at the growl of his voice and blew out the breath I was holding in an exasperated sigh. “Cody…what are you doing here?”
He flashed another devastating smile. “I came to take you out to dinner. This is for after,” he said, holding up the bottle of wine.
I took it and gawked at the vintage. It was a pricey bottle. “No, no, here, take it back. We’re not doing this,” I said, each refusal painful to say. For the past week, every spare moment in between work was devoted to missing him. Now, he was on my doorstep and I wanted—needed—him gone again.
It was enough to make my head feel like it was spinning.
“Chelsea, come on, please,” he said, his voice low.
Please? Since when does Cody Wright say please?
“All right, come on in.”
He entered the foyer and I glanced over at him just in time to catch his eyes lingering on the backside of my form fitted slacks. I flushed at the look in his eyes. Damn it!
“I gotta say, baby, I’m not understanding your getup. Where are you going?”
I glanced down, my cheeks warming another ten degrees at the lacy bits of my bra poking out from under the shiny camisole. “I was—” I stopped short, wondering how crazy it was going to sound when I told him what I was actually doing.
He glanced past me and his eyes landed on the presentation board. “Oh! You were rehearsing.”
So maybe it wasn’t that weird…that’s a relief.
Not that I cared what he thought anyway.
Right.
“I have to present to the investors in a few days so I was practicing my pitch. I find it helps to dress the part…” I added, glancing down at myself.
He cocked a grin. “Well, if you want my advice, lose the jacket in the first five minutes and you’ll have them all hooked.” He turned toward the fish tank. “Sorry guys, poor choice of words.”