4th & Girl (Mavericks Tackle Love)

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4th & Girl (Mavericks Tackle Love) Page 9

by Max Monroe


  “Oh yeah,” I muttered sarcastically. “That’s real fucking touching, Cam. Hold on a minute while I wipe away the sentimental tears.”

  His hearty chuckle filled my ear. “So, I guess you’ve officially given up your search, huh?”

  “Well…” I paused, unsure if I wanted to reveal the truth of my situation, but he jumped on my hesitation with lightning-quick speed.

  “Well, what?”

  “Well…I shut down the thread because I found her.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “I knew that thread was fucking genius!” he exclaimed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Slow your celebratory roll, dude,” I said through a soft chuckle. “It wasn’t because of the thread.”

  “Explain yourself, son.”

  “Nonna is actually the one who found her.”

  His confusion was evident. “What the fuck is a Nonna?”

  “She’s my great-aunt.”

  Silence consumed the line for a few beats before Cam’s voice filled my ear again.

  “Let me get this straight,” he started. “Your great-aunt found the mystery girl you peed on? How in the fuck does that happen?” he asked and then burst into a fit of laughter.

  “Gemma works for her.”

  “Who the hell is Gemma?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Gemma is her name.”

  “Whose name? Your Nonnie’s name?”

  “Jesus Christ, keep up, man,” I muttered. “Gemma is her name. The mystery girl. And it’s Nonna, not Nonnie.”

  “Damn, son, you really know how to make shit complicated,” he responded. “Shit, I can’t wait to deliver this news to Sean. He’s going to have a fucking field day with this.”

  “Glad I could provide the entertainment for the evening.”

  “Man, you have no idea,” Cam said on a soft laugh. “And, speaking of evening,” he added. “That’s actually why I was calling you. We’re grabbing a few beers at Maloney’s. You game?”

  I couldn’t deny it was nice to feel accepted by my teammates as more than just the rookie they liked to screw with, but my sights were set on bigger and better things than yucking it up with the guys.

  Tonight was the night I’d been waiting what felt like ages for.

  It was date night. With my mystery girl. With Gemma.

  “I appreciate that, man, but I’ve already got plans.”

  “Painting your toenails and writing poetry doesn’t count.”

  “That’s tomorrow night,” I corrected with a laugh. “Tonight, I’m taking Gemma out.”

  “Well, shit,” he said, and a low wolf whistle filled my ears. “You don’t waste any time.”

  “Nope.” I grinned. “At least, not when it comes to her.”

  “Damn, what’s with this girl?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, man,” I muttered. Because honestly, I really didn’t know what exactly drew me toward her. I just knew I wanted to get closer to her. I wanted to know her. Not to mention, the one million fantasies I’d conjured in my mind that had her playing the starring role. “She’s just… There’s just something there.”

  Cam’s momentary pause was just enough time for me to end the conversation before he had a chance to toss out more sarcastic commentary.

  “Speaking of which,” I said into the receiver. “I gotta run. Talk later, dude.”

  A mere fifteen seconds later, I was off the phone and pulling out onto the main road.

  The drive to Gemma’s apartment in Brooklyn was a long one, both literally and figuratively.

  Since getting drafted by the Mavericks and finding an apartment close to the stadium, I’d learned a thing or two about living outside of the city.

  Number one: Getting there from anywhere else, no matter how close it seemed, took a while.

  And number two: Almost no one lived in actual Manhattan.

  Hoboken. Weehawken. Brooklyn. The suburbs in New Jersey. I’d been to the houses and apartments of many a player all over the tri-state area at this point, and even if lost without the help of GPS, I was pretty sure I could find my way.

  But keeping my gas tank close to full was imperative, and I never went anywhere with an expectation that it would take me under thirty minutes.

  Unfortunately, no matter the planning, I was running ten minutes late, and texting on the streets of Brooklyn was like asking for death.

  I just hoped when I arrived, Gemma would be waiting and something less than passive-aggressively angry.

  Pulling the Durango into an empty spot, I shut off the engine and hopped out as quickly as I could, jogging down the block to the address Gemma had texted me the day before.

  I bounded up the steps toward the door, ready to rap my knuckles against it, but it swung open without prompt.

  Gemma looked up from the ground with a sweeping lift of her head and stepped out onto the stoop, and I had to reach up to grip my chest as she did.

  Heels, skinny jeans, and a delightfully low-cut blouse paid tribute to her body, and her hair fell down around her perfect face in soft waves.

  I smiled big and wide and unbidden, and her forward motion pulled up short.

  “You…look amazing,” I breathed without thought.

  She blushed, a fine rosiness I was starting to become well-acquainted with, and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said with ease and held out a hand for her own.

  She hesitated slightly but completed the connection much more quickly than she had at lunch the day prior, and I helped her down the stairs in her heels.

  “I’m sorry I’m a little late,” I remarked.

  “That’s okay,” she dismissed easily. “I know how Brooklyn can be sometimes.”

  Instantly, relief lightened the pressure inside my chest.

  Thank God she’s not mad.

  I nodded my gratitude with a smile and walked her down the block to my car.

  She climbed in as I opened the door without comment, and once she was securely in the passenger seat, I shut the door and rounded the hood toward the driver’s side.

  I knew if I was going to get through this night, I needed to figure out how to untie my tongue, but there was just something about her that robbed me of my normal self-assuredness.

  She was sweet and interesting—and fucking prettier than anyone I’d ever seen.

  Believe it or not, I didn’t want to fuck it up.

  “I tried to plan enough time, but apparently, I’m not that good at planning,” I said teasingly as I climbed inside.

  She smiled at my awkward excuse, and internally, I grimaced.

  Good Lord, get it together, Leo.

  “So, where am I headed?”

  “I’m really not sure of the name of it,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “My friend suggested it, but I’ve got an address.”

  “Works for me,” I said with a smile before handing her my phone. “Go ahead and punch it in, and we’ll just GPS it.”

  Her eyes went wide, and I paused.

  “What?”

  She laughed a little and shook her head. “Sorry. I just…I guess it just surprised me that you handed me your phone so easily.”

  I chuckled and clicked on the engine with a flick of my wrist. “Don’t worry. I cleared all of the incriminating stuff off of there before I left home.”

  “Ah,” she said through a cute little giggle. “Naked pictures?”

  “Tons,” I confirmed teasingly. “Loads of numbers too. Maybe even a text or two from women tonight.”

  She narrowed her eyes, and I laughed outright. “I’m kidding. I’m a little too busy to have women all over the place.”

  “I’m sure that’s what all the pro football players say.”

  With one last laugh, I shifted into drive and pulled out as she set the navigation to play, and a comfortable silence settled over us.

  Both of us were nervous, I could tell, but the little bout of banter had at least eased the te
nsion.

  When we pulled up to the address listed in the phone, all the anxiousness had left her smile.

  At least…until she saw the sign on the building.

  “What the hell?” she yelled, and I looked up to follow her gaze.

  Bright pink and neon, the letters of the sign glittered and glistened the name of the restaurant. Drag.

  Not to mention, a seven-foot-tall Barbra Streisand standing beneath the hot-pink awning of the establishment put out her cigarette on the brick of the building and went back inside. Instantly, Gemma sank into her seat and covered her eyes.

  “I’m going to kill Abby.”

  Somehow, the level of her frustration just made me feel at ease.

  Hell, it even made me grin a little. I’d thought she was cute when she was bumbling and awkward, but fuck, that cuteness multiplied by ten when frustration took over her pretty little face and furrowed her brow.

  My chest expanded with excitement, and I exited the vehicle and rounded the hood to get to Gemma’s door.

  I opened it with ease and then asked the question of the night.

  “Shall we?” I asked with a little smirk.

  She uncovered her face, and despite the uncertainty that still remained within her pretty blue eyes, she accepted with a quiet “Yes.”

  It seemed we shall.

  I took a sip from my vodka martini and tried to wrap my brain around the chaos.

  Not only was I out with a guy I’d met under the most incredibly awkward circumstances, but I’d also inadvertently brought us to a drag show for our first date.

  And, Lord Almighty, Leo Landry was a sight inside the glittered-up establishment.

  He stuck out like a dick in a pair of panty hose, and that was saying a lot considering our current location.

  Confused and slightly concerned, I snuck my phone out of my purse and sent Abby a text message.

  Me: So…uh…just out of curiosity…have you ever been to this restaurant?

  She responded a minute later.

  Abby: Oh yeah, I go there all the time.

  Internally, I sighed at her words.

  Fucking hell, I should’ve known…

  Me: So you’re 100% aware you sent me to a drag show? For a first date? With a guy I’ve already incurred one too many awkward encounters with?

  Abby: Completely aware, and in my personal opinion, it’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever suggested. First dates shouldn’t be stuffy and boring. They should be fun, Gem. And trust me, you’re going to have some fucking fun tonight.

  Either she was an evil genius, or she’d just set me up for disaster.

  I honestly didn’t know, but I knew spending my night distracted and texting with my best friend wasn’t going to help the situation.

  But before I slipped my phone back into my purse, she sent one final message.

  Abby: Have fun! And, btw, if you see Asia, tell her Abby says hello.

  I rolled my eyes. Oh yeah, I’d be sure to tell Asia that Abby said hello, you know, once I figured out how in the hell I was going to explain to Leo how I managed to drag—pun intended—us into this situation.

  He took a sip of beer and his Adam’s apple bobbed when the liquid went down his throat. I’d never really thought an Adam’s apple could be sexy, but somehow, Leo proved otherwise.

  Between his blue as the Caribbean eyes and his perfect lips and his incredibly toned and fit body, I was damn near overstimulated. It was like stepping inside a bakery on a Sunday morning and trying to pick out a goddamn pastry.

  Cinnamon roll or glazed twist or strawberry-filled or…? Son of a sugar rush, just give me one of everything.

  Obviously, Leo looked a lot different from a glazed donut, but I had a feeling he probably tasted just as flipping good.

  When I caught myself with my mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies, I curbed my randy thoughts and focused on taking a sip from my martini. The liquid stung as it slid down my throat, but the distraction was much-needed.

  “So…uh… Interesting date choice,” Leo said, and a smile perked up the corners of his lips.

  “Do you want to leave?” I asked and grimaced slightly. “I seriously won’t be offended if you want to go.”

  “Hell no.” He shook his head. “But I do have a quick question before they start the show.”

  “Yeah?”

  He leaned closer and whispered into my ear, “Are you supposed to tip the performers?” he asked. “Like at a strip club?”

  “I think you’re supposed to,” I said, and then couldn’t stop myself from tossing in my own question. “So…you go to strip clubs often, Leo?” I asked with a teasing smile.

  “I plead the fifth, sweetheart.” He simply chuckled and stood. “And, on that note, I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded. “I’ll be here.” You know, sitting inside this booth wondering why I ever trust Abby with anything and silently praying that nothing super weird happens.

  A few minutes later, Leo made his way back to our cozy booth, and once he slid in beside me, he placed a large stack of one-dollar bills in my hand.

  “What’s this for?” I glanced between him and the money. “I mean, I know I’m amazing company, but…?”

  “Tips,” he said with a little smirk. “If we’re going to have our first date at a drag show, you can bet your cute ass we’re going to do it right.”

  The next question blurted from my lips before I could stop it. “You think I have a cute ass?”

  He winked and I blushed.

  Hot damn, Leo Landry thought I had a cute ass.

  I probably shouldn’t have been so giddy over that tidbit of information, but no lie, it made me nearly euphoric. Hell, I almost asked him to rate my supposed cute ass on a scale of zero to ten, but the stage started to liven up and grabbed both Leo’s and my attention before I could take that line of conversation any further.

  The lights in the restaurant dimmed, and colorful reds and oranges and pinks started to highlight the stage from not one but four disco balls hanging from the ceiling, while a spotlight lit up an extremely tall and beautiful drag queen standing center stage.

  “Welcome to Drag!” she exclaimed as she glided across the stage in the tallest pair of shoes I’d ever seen in my life. “Who is ready to get this show started?” she asked, and her bright red lips curled up into a smile. She fluttered her long lashes and sashayed her narrow hips around the stage as the pounding beats of “Supermodel” started to liven up the joint.

  “I’m Asia,” she introduced herself with a sexy little smirk. “And I’ll be your main queen tonight!”

  And then, one by one, Asia announced the performers for the evening as they filed onto the stage.

  “Miss Fortune!”

  “Halle Berries!”

  “Queen Bee!”

  “Mariah Kiss!”

  “Duchess!”

  “Betty Spears!”

  The gang was all here and strutting across the stage fiercer than the Naomi Campbells and Cindy Crawfords of the world.

  I couldn’t deny I was fucking mesmerized.

  “You better work, girls!” Asia exclaimed, her big, blond wig shifting across her shoulders and her fingers snapping three times through the air.

  The crowd hooted and hollered, and it didn’t take long before I joined in. I clapped my hands and cheered the queens on, and to my utter surprise, Leo was right there with me. With a giant grin etched across his mouth, he put two fingers to his lips and whistled toward the stage.

  Weirdly enough, a girlish giggle escaped my throat, and I swooned a little at the sight of him—smiling and cheering on these gorgeous queens like he was a goddamn regular.

  Leo Landry was so freaking comfortable in his own skin and so open-minded, not only did he take it all in stride, but he also made a point to enjoy himself.

  I’d thought he was handsome the first time I’d laid eyes on him. But I was finding the more layers of himself he revealed, the more attractive he became.
/>   It was safe to say I was really starting to dig Leo Landry.

  And I couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe, the whole drag show first date idea wasn’t so ridiculous after all…

  Nearly an hour and a half later, dinner had been served and consumed, another round of drinks achieved, and we were nearing the final act of the night.

  Duchess stood on the stage, her wig a black homage to Cher and her outfit inspired by a Las Vegas showgirl. “Fellow queens and drinkers of booze!” she exclaimed into the mic. “It has been brought to my attention that we have a very, very special guest here tonight.”

  The crowd excitedly hummed their response, and I lifted my second martini to my lips for a sip as I glanced around the room for some kind of secret celebrity hiding out in the back booths.

  If Bradley Cooper is here tonight, I will drop dead right here between the queens.

  “Do you want to know who it is?” Duchess asked, and her pink-painted lips crested up into a huge smile as she moved her gaze around the crowd.

  When a guy from the back shouted “Tell us!” she rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “Oh, honey, you’re far too excitable,” she purred. “My sympathies go out to anyone who fucks you.”

  The crowd laughed.

  “Okay, okay…I won’t keep you in suspense any longer,” Duchess finally continued. “Our special guest of the night is handsome as fuck and a strapping young football star to boot. Not to mention, I have no doubt he will help our favorite New York Mavericks finally bring home the championship this year!”

  My eyes went wide, and I nearly choked on my martini.

  Oh no…

  Unless there were other Mavericks hiding out in Drag, it was safe to say Leo had officially been spotted.

  Oh God…

  My breath got caught in my lungs as I braced myself in anticipation.

  “Tonight,” Duchess exclaimed, “Leo Landry is in the house!” The spotlight moved from the stage and directly onto our booth. And before I knew it, both Leo and I were squinting against the harsh glare.

 

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