by Julie Cross
He shrugs. “Sign autographs, offer them a drink. Then I make an excuse about needing to get ready to go somewhere, and they leave.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I find that hard to believe. You have so many opportunities to hook up, unlike me, who knows about two guys around here even remotely close to my age. Anyone in your situation would need a big reason to say no to every single girl.”
“A big reason? Like STDs? Being drugged and having naked photos of me taken and posted everywhere,” he recites. “And then there’s undercover reporters who write detailed accounts of your…um, skills.”
I crack a smile despite my mood. “No way! Who does that?”
He smiles. “I’m not kidding. Savannah gave me this list with detailed accounts of these things happening to other players and the protocol for each one, how the media will handle it and ways to cover it up. Scared the shit out of me. I don’t get close in that way to anyone anymore. It’s just not worth it.”
“But Lenny told me her dad sleeps with—”
“He does,” Brody says. “But it’s not groupies or random girls in bars. He limits himself to other people’s wives, doctors who have worked on him, maybe a dental hygienist or two.”
“Gross.” I shake my head in disgust. “Why can’t Dad be like that every once in a while? Hook up with some other woman so he can forget about my mom?”
“I don’t think it works like that,” he says. “If you love someone, even the best one-night stand isn’t going to erase that.”
“Guess I’m too much of a kid to understand something so complex.”
Brody shakes his head and scoots closer to me. “You are not a kid, Annie. I don’t think of you that way. I’ve told you that before.”
Yeah, he told me that in the car after laughing at my tight dress and red lipstick.
Tears spring to my eyes again, but this time I keep them from falling. “Yeah, that’s a great memory.”
He lets out a frustrated groan and leans his head back against the couch. His hands lift to cover his face. “This is impossible.”
Okay, this was a terrible idea.
“I’m sorry. I should go,” I repeat again and stand up and brush past him. One hand drops from his face and hooks around my waist, pulling me back down on the couch, so I’m practically seated on his lap. My heart takes off and my voice hitches in my throat.
He holds me tightly in place and leans in closer. “Just so you know, if I had the crisis you’re having today, you’re the first person I’d want to see. You’re the only person I’d want to talk to.”
Our eyes meet and my heart beats like a wild animal locked in a tiny cage. My lips part, but no words fall out. Brody’s fingers move through my hair and my skin heats up, my thoughts jumbling and losing their grasp on reality.
“I’m sorry for not doing this sooner, and I’m sorry for doing it all,” he says.
My eyes widen as he closes the gap between us, his lips hovering a millimeter from mine. His bare chest presses against me, and I feel the thud, thud, thud of his heart when his mouth touches mine.
Chapter 18
This isn’t real. It can’t be real. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed my car.
But I’m the opposite of drowsy. My senses have never been more alert in my entire life. Brody’s mouth is soft against mine, and his hands slide across my cheeks, resting on the sides of my neck. Unlike that night in his car, when his lips part, instead of pulling away he deepens the kiss. My eyes finally close and my mind is beautifully blank, endorphins flowing freely through my veins as my heart pumps at double speed.
I lift my hands and wrap them around his back, gliding my fingers up and down his bare skin, moving over his shoulders. How many times have I stared at him shirtless in the training room and been envious of old men touching and prodding him, wishing I had an excuse to do this? How many nights have I fallen asleep thinking up a moment just like this one?
His mouth breaks away from mine, arms wrapping around my back, sliding up my T-shirt. A shiver runs along my spine as we stretch out across the futon. We’re completely pressed together. His heart thuds against my chest again, and his lips drift down to my neck.
When he raises his head, our eyes meet for a split second, both of us breathing heavily, hearts pounding. Then I reach for his dark hair, combing my fingers through it, pulling his mouth back to mine.
He brushes his fingers against my bra strap and then his mouth is traveling the length of my neck. I tilt my head back slightly, my chest arching into him.
“This is much better in real life,” he whispers against my skin. “So much better than the fantasy.”
My hands freeze in his hair. “You have fantasies about kissing me?”
He lifts his head from my neck and touches his forehead to mine. “Yes.”
“Since when?”
There’s the slightest bit of color creeping up to his cheeks. He laughs softly and drops his head again, resting it on my shoulder. “Probably since you told me that I couldn’t choose to be a house elf because they’re an enslaved race.”
My jaw drops open. “But…But…you said—”
His mouth captures mine again, giving me another long lingering kiss before pulling away again. “I just wanted to do the right thing. For once in my life, I wanted to make the right choice.”
“And that’s not me?”
He rests a hand on my cheek. “Only because I respect your dad, and I know he doesn’t want this.”
I swallow the lump still in my throat from earlier. I don’t really care what Dad wants. He promised me something, and then he broke that promise.
His arms go around me again. Brody’s fingers on my bare skin is the most amazing feeling ever. I lean my ear on his shoulder and touch my lips to his neck. He tries to speak evenly, but his voice keeps catching with every kiss. It makes me feel powerful.
“I’ve never seen anything like you and your dad together, Annie,” he manages to say finally. “And he treats me with respect, like I’m not a screwup and like maybe I can do something with my life. And I know you’re pissed at him right now, but you’re the most important person in his life. I already feel guilty for having my hand up your shirt.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “So guilty it took you about twenty seconds to dive in?”
“Yeah, but you’re not counting the hundreds of other times I’ve wanted to touch you and didn’t.” He laughs and kisses me again. “I really want to take your bra off, too, and I haven’t so I’ve still got a couple ounces of self-control left.”
My emotions can hardly keep up with this huge turn of events, and I shift from swoon-happy to frustrated. I grip his face in my hands, our gazes locked. “Why did you make me feel like such an idiot for kissing you after we left the club that night? I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”
He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know what to do. I never imagined you’d make the first move. I thought it would be about me not bringing you over to the dark side. I had no idea you were already there.”
“I’m more of a dark side poser,” I say. “For example, I’m still not sure this is really happening. That I’m laying horizontally on your couch with you, and your tongue was just in my mouth.”
He kisses me once, twice, three times before speaking again. “I felt like such a dick for shooting you down like that. I was going to tell you how I felt but not…not this. I didn’t mean to—”
“Well, you did.” I wrap a leg around him and draw him closer until our bodies are practically glued together. “You can’t take it back now.”
“You’re right. Guess I’m not as much of a good guy as I’d like to be.” He tucks my hair behind my ears and looks me over carefully.
“You’re horrible,” I say. “I’m completely ruined. Morally corrupt, destined for prostitution and cred
it card fraud.”
“After all the trouble I’ve been in, worrying about this probably seems pretty lame,” he explains. “But you know how there are some people who can criticize you over and over and their lashing will barely even penetrate the surface? And then there are other people who can say nothing more than, ‘I’m disappointed in you’ and it feels like a kick in the nuts? You can’t just shake it off?”
Unfortunately, I know exactly what he means. And it’s the same exact person who’s had that effect on me almost my entire life.
Dad.
I bury my face in Brody’s chest again, pressing myself tight against him. His hand moves over my hair. “This is insane,” I say. “Not that I haven’t wanted to be in this exact position for weeks and weeks, but think about it? My dad aside, I can’t just be…be your—”
“Girlfriend?” he finishes.
I lift my eyes to meet his. “I wasn’t going to go there, but I’m just thinking of the bigger picture. It doesn’t matter that you’re not even two years older than me—you’re a professional baseball player and I’m a girl in high school. You can’t fool around with high school girls, right? I imagine that’s not just Savannah’s rule.”
His forehead is creased with lines of worry. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I don’t know, Annie… Do you want to stop right now? Just because I like you doesn’t mean you have to be with me. I’m still here in whatever form you want me.”
The look on his face, the tone of his voice—confused and fearful—he’s not some grown man taking advantage of a teenage girl. He’s just Brody. Vulnerable and impulsive and young. Brody who lives in this practically empty apartment and goes on five minute long fake dates then returns here or to his hotel room on the road, completely alone. Brody who has never met his own dad and has no contact with his mother anymore, no other family to my knowledge. Brody whose position on the team creates jealousy and rivalry way more than it does friendships.
He should be allowed to have someone real in his life. No one deserves to be alone at nineteen.
But really he does have someone—Dad. And if he finds out about this, well that could be it for their bond.
I press my palm against his forehead, trying to rub out the wrinkles. “You know what? It’s none of anyone’s business what you and I think of each other. You don’t have another girlfriend or a wife and a few kids or anything, right?”
He laughs and his face finally relaxes. “Nope.” He cups my face and kisses me again, and I know that I don’t care how much work it will be to hide this so long as I don’t have to stop.
“Let me get this straight,” Brody says, lifting another slice from the box of pizza we had delivered for dinner. “I text you what I want posted, and then you post it for me and fix my mistakes?”
“Yep,” I say after relaying Savannah’s social media plan to him. “And since I’m her official intern, you have a legit reason to be sending me text messages. Like all the time, if you want.”
A grin slowing spreads across his face. “Clever, Annie.”
He leans in to kiss me, but I put up a hand to stop him. “I just ate pizza.” That doesn’t deter him at all. He grips the back of my neck and gently brings our lips together before pulling away and going back to his slice of pizza.
After Brody finishes his dinner, he turns all serious again. “You’re ignoring your phone, aren’t you? You know you can’t stay here all night.”
I sink further into the couch cushion. “I can’t go home. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to hear his excuses, his plea for me to understand his perspective, because you know what? There’s not one fucking thing that I can comprehend, let alone accept, when it comes to him and Mom.”
Brody stares at me for a long moment and then pulls out his phone to text someone. I wait in silence, avoiding asking if he’s texting Dad. I’d like to think he knows better than to do that. He finally sets the phone on the coffee table beside the nearly empty pizza box. “Savannah said you could stay over there tonight. She’ll let your dad know.”
I glance at the clock on the cable box. It’s almost ten. Lily’s already asleep, and I’d hate to make Savannah wait up for me. I don’t want to leave this apartment. I’m half expecting a spell to break once I step out the front door and this whole Brody being into me thing will be over. Or maybe it won’t have even happened?
As if sensing my concerns, Brody squeezes my knee, leaving his hand on my leg. “There’s nothing I want more than to keep you here all night, but we’re too smart and conniving to get caught on the first day, right?”
I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”
He’s silent for a couple minutes and then finally exhales. “Before you go, I have, like, two or three more things to say.”
I tilt my head up to see his face. “Okay?”
His eyes stay forward, focused on the door. “When I told you about dismissing all the chicks that trampled into my room, well, there was one girl who—” He speeds up, trying to spit everything out quickly. “Went all dominatrix on me and had me up against a wall for a good five minutes and I’ll be completely honest and admit that it was pretty hot until I started envisioning what would come next—whips, chains, floggers—this chick seemed like the type to bypass handcuffs. And she was strong as hell. It took me awhile to get her off me and then I had to call security—”
He stops talking after noticing that I’m shaking with laughter. I’d started the second he said the word dominatrix. I can’t picture some curvy, big-breasted girl in five-inch heels being able to physically overtake Brody with his six foot stature and athlete’s strength.
“It wasn’t funny,” he says, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. “She had a really big purse, too. Who knows what was in that thing?”
“Floggers and chains, right?” I wrap an arm around my midsection, trying to rub away the cramp I’ve just given myself from laughing so hard with a stomach full of root beer and extra cheese pizza. “Okay, what’s the second confession?”
He lifts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer. “I used to use a fake ID a lot, drink a lot, occasional one-night stands. The day I got to Kansas City, there was this girl I met at a bar I went to with Jake London. I brought her back to the guesthouse…”
My entire body stiffens even though I’m screaming at it not to react. “Brody, seriously, we don’t need to play confession. In fact, I’m totally cool with being oblivious to any of that.”
He rests his chin on top of my head and sighs. “This isn’t going to work if you try and stay away from rumors and information that gets leaked out. It’s impossible to avoid and you’re always going to wonder if there’s truth in it. So, I’m telling you now that you’ll hear everything from me—the good, the bad, and the really ugly—whether you want to or not. That’s how I roll.”
I’m temporarily stunned. It sounds like a terrible idea and yet I don’t see a better way for us to trust each other. “You can’t help the fact that girls are constantly coming up to you and asking you to sign their boobs—”
“I haven’t signed any boobs,” he interrupts.
“Boobs, belly buttons—same thing.”
He straightens up and lifts my chin before planting a kiss on my forehead. “No secrets, I promise. That’s about the only thing I can promise right this second.”
“Can you promise not to like my mom no matter how hard she tries to wrap you around her finger?” I ask. “She has a way with men.”
“I promise. Consider my ballot already cast. Can’t change sides now.”
Reluctantly, I stand up, grab my keys from the coffee table, and both of us head toward the front door. Before I open it, Brody turns me around, pressing himself against me and giving me another long kiss good-bye. I lift my hands above my head in surrender. “Take me to your red room of pain.”
He laughs and gently brings my hands back down to my sides. “I should have never told you that s
tory.”
“I guess I’ll see you when you get back from California.” Three days seems like forever and this constant in and out of town is a regular occurrence for Brody and Dad.
His entire body presses against mine, heat spreading from one area to another until I’m hot all over and contemplating telling Savannah that I’m not staying with her tonight. When he pulls away, the whoosh of cold, air-conditioned air flows between us, reminding me of my life outside of kissing this boy.
“I’ll miss you,” he says, light as a whisper when he leans down one last time to kiss my cheek.
I finally stumble out the door, down the elevator, and back to my car. I’m already wishing for more. For next time. Wishing I’d taken off my shirt too and felt our bare skin pressing together. A shiver runs up my spine as I pull out of the parking garage and head toward Savannah’s neighborhood.
Chapter 19
I’m so used to Savannah in her business dressy attire, heels included, that I hardly recognize her when she opens her apartment door wearing sweats, her long reddish-brown hair pulled back in a messy bun and glasses in place of her contacts.
“Sorry, I know it’s late,” I say.
She shakes her head and swings the door open wider. “No worries. I was up getting some work done.”
I step inside, taking in the living room/dining room/kitchen combo. There’s a pink and purple Lego house and extra pieces strewn all over the coffee table. Neatly folded laundry covers the dining room table, and a basket of unfolded clothes sits on the floor beside the table. But the furniture and decorations are all nice and homey—warm. Nothing like Brody’s lonely place.
Savannah catches me examining her place, and she tosses a sheepish grin at me before moving quickly to stack up the laundry into more condensed piles. “Life of a single mom. Can’t possibly keep everything in order.”
“Believe me, I know all about not being able to keep things in order.” I take a seat on the floor in front of the couch and study the Lego project.