by A. E. Neal
I tried on every pair of shoes she brought me and we finally decided on a pair of simple, silver, strappy stilettos. After taking up most of Melanie's night we decided to head back to the hotel. Melanie had Winston wrap the dress, shoes and necklace up for me. I signed a loan agreement, which stated I would be responsible for anything that happened to the items. My jaw fell open when I saw the price tag for everything and prayed inwardly that nothing would happen to them while in my care.
We thanked Melanie profusely and allowed her to get back to her party. Winston called us a taxi and we returned to our hotel with an arm full of new loot. I was exhausted from our busy day and although it was only midnight, I decided it would be best to get some sleep. Kennedy agreed and we got ready for bed.
Once my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Chapter 17
Brody
"Hey, a few of the guys are going for drinks later. You wanna come?" Carrick asked.
"Nah, man— Coach kicked my ass in drills today. How are your legs not fucking Jell-O right now?" I asked as I pulled my jersey over my head.
He laughed. "You're a pussy, you know that?"
I'd be damned if I'd let him think I was turning into a pussy.
"Shut the fuck up, Rick. I know you're wife's got a death grip on your balls, so who's the pussy now, huh?"
"We all know the great Brody McCabe will never get tied down 'cause he's too afraid some woman would turn him into her bitch. No wonder you got your ass kicked in drills today, pussy." He scoffed.
"It's too bad I like you, Ricky, or I'd kick the shit out of you right now," I said, half jokingly.
"Oh, that'll be the day," he laughed and stalked off toward the showers.
"I'd actually pay money to see that shit, McCabe!" Tim laughed.
"Keep it up and you'll be next, man," I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.
I showered and finally agreed to meet up with the guys at my bar later on. I threw on a pair of cargo shorts, a t-shirt, my hat and decided it was a good idea to check on the bar anyway. I waved to the guys in the locker room and headed outside to my truck. The sun was still blazing over head and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the blinding light.
Our first game of the season was less than two months away and I knew I had a lot of work to do if I was gonna hang with all the rookies this year. With that in mind, I headed to the gym to get a quick workout in before meeting up with the guys.
For a Wednesday night, the gym was packed, but I found an empty treadmill. I ran for thirty minutes, even though my legs protested and turned to mush after only fifteen. Once I regained my balance, I lifted weights and decided to call it quits when I couldn't do more than ten reps without stopping in between. I realized I just wasn't focused and couldn't put a finger on what was actually gnawing away at me until I spotted a gorgeous blonde in one of the dance studios. Her back was to me, but I could swear it was Ally. I grabbed a towel, wiped the sweat from my forehead and made my way across the gym to see her. As I approached the window, the small group of women in the room, turned and glared at me. The tall blonde raised her hand and opened the door.
"Is there something I can help you with?" She asked and my heart sank. The woman was not my little fox, but rather some up-tight, silicon filled bitch.
"No," I said, studying her features.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to teach," she snapped and slammed the door in my face.
"Bitch," I muttered under my breath.
I was well through day number two without seeing Allyson and every time I closed my eyes, I saw her beautiful blue eyes staring back at me. She was everywhere and now I was beginning to see things.
"Fuck," I said and ran my hand through my sweat drenched hair.
I was starting to think I might be going completely crazy. I shook my head, gathered my gym bag from my locker and headed home. I parked in the alley, climbed the stairs to my apartment, swung the door open with more force than necessary and tossed the keys on the kitchen counter.
I ran the water in the shower, stripped down and stepped in, letting the hot water melt away the ache in my legs and arms. The one thing it couldn't dissolve, were the images of Ally that played over and over in my mind. Her soft skin, supple lips and her legs wrapped around me like she never wanted to let go. The way she begged me for more, her sexy moan when she came and the moment she realized I'd given her what she had longed for, for so long. I felt my cock harden at the thought of her naked body wrapped around me in the shower, her desperate pleas for more as she wound her fingers in my hair and the taste of her sweet lips on mine. Fuck! I knew I'd have to see her one more time, just to get her out of my mind.
Get your shit together, Brody. Jesus. She already made it clear, she wants nothing to do with you, so you need to let it go. Easier said than done.
She wasn't just another chick, she was my little fox, my Allyson and I had to prove it to her. It wouldn't be easy, but it was all I had to keep myself from driving over to her house and giving her what she really wanted...Me.
I stepped out of the shower, dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist. I pulled a clean pair of boxer briefs, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from my dresser. Once I was dressed, I made my way back into the kitchen where my phone was buzzing around the counter.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Brody? It's Zac," he said quietly.
"Hey, man. What's up?"
"Ah...well...fuck," he stammered.
"Out with it, Zac. I don't have all fucking night," I said.
"Shit. Well, hope it's cool that I did this," he said and paused briefly.
Uh-oh. This doesn't sound good.
"I gave your number to Kennedy. She wouldn't tell me why she needed it, but I just wanted to give you a heads up. Sorry man." Zac said.
"Kennedy?" I asked.
"Yeah, my sister's best friend...short black hair, tattoos."
"Oh, right. I remember. So, she didn't say why?" I asked, confused.
"No...she texted me, so I called her back and asked her what she needed it for, but she was with Ally and couldn't say. I'm really sorry...you're probably fucking pissed as hell right now." Zac truly sounded scared for his life.
I laughed. "No, actually. I'm not mad at all. Thanks for letting me know, Zac. Are you guys still rehearsing tonight?"
"Yeah, I'm leaving now." He said.
"I'm just curious, Zac. Are your sister and her friend coming to rehearsal tonight?"
He laughed. "No. They're in Denver visiting some friends until tomorrow."
"Ah...okay. Well, see you in a bit. Thanks, man."
"No problem. Later."
"Later," I said and hung up.
Now my wheels were definitely fucking turning.
Scenario number one: Ally really does want to see me again.
Hopeful, yet not entirely probable.
Scenario number two: Maybe her friend is interested in me.
She's not your type, buddy. Next.
Scenario number three: Maybe her friend just needs a job.
Well, that would fucking suck. Since I'm inwardly praying for scenario number one. Shit.
I grabbed my keys, headed down the stairs and through the back door of the bar. I noticed a few of the regulars making conversation with Finn who was busy pouring their drinks. I waved, he nodded and I made my way to the stage. Assuming the band would make their entrance soon, I turned the stage lights on and headed back to the dressing room to wait for them.
After stocking the mini bar and replenishing the bottled water, I sat in what I now called, "Ally's chair" and picked up a copy of the newspaper. After glancing over the sports section, briefly scanning the baseball scoreboard, I tossed the paper onto the coffee table. Voices filled the hallway outside the door, I stood and opened it.
"Hey Brody, didn't expect to see you here tonight," Alex said and reached out to shake my hand.
"Yeah, just figured you'd ne
ed some help setting up," I said.
"Thanks, man, but I think we're good. We've been doing this for a while. So, we have a pretty good system, plus we were just gonna jam for a bit back here if that's alright," Alex said.
"Of course. I'll get out of the way, then," I said and held the door open for Zac.
"Thanks, man." He said.
"Sure, no problem. Let me know if you guys need anything, alright?" I asked.
"Hey, Brody?" Zac asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked.
"Sure, what's up?"
"Sorry about earlier. I just thought you needed to know. 'Cause Kennedy can be a lot to handle when it comes to my sister. She's pretty protective over her— I mean, not that I'm not, but she's all grown up now, so I figure she can take care of herself and doesn't need me butting into her business." He said.
"Okay?" I asked, confused a bit by where he was going with this.
"So, Kennedy just texted and let me know the reason for needing your number. She said Ally wants to talk to you again, I don't know the details, but it sounds like she's planning on calling you later tonight," he said.
In order to not look like a complete jackass, I strained to keep the smile that was now growing to epic proportions across my face to a mild smirk instead.
"Really. Huh," I said.
"It's none of my business, but is there something going on between you and Ally?"
"Last I heard, nope."
"I see the way she looks at you, man. I haven't seen her that way in a long fucking time. So, I'll tell you this and I'll only tell you once— You better treat her right or you'll have to deal with Kennedy's shit and I wouldn't wish that on anyone, man." He said.
I clapped Zac on the shoulder. "Not to worry, brother. I hear ya."
"Thanks again, Brody. Later," he said, opened the dressing room door and disappeared behind it.
Fuck. Knowing my little fox may or may not call was going to be the death of me. I needed something to occupy my time, so I joined Finn behind the bar and began making drinks as new customers came in.
Chapter 18
Ally
As relaxed as I was just lounging by the hotel pool, I was anxious to get home to finally talk to Brody, and Kennedy's constant reminders, "Did you call him yet?" were really starting to get on my nerves.
Around eleven, we packed up our luggage and headed to the airport. Our flight didn't leave until four, but we both decided it was time to go home, even if that meant hanging out in a busy terminal for a couple of hours.
We returned the Mercedes and hopped the shuttle back to the main terminal. After an hour in the security line, we were finally settled at our gate and the countdown to take-off began. In my mere 23 years of life, I'd never been so anxious to get on an airplane, until now.
T-minus one hour and forty-two minutes, I recited inwardly and made a habit of checking the time every couple of minutes.
"You know the saying, a watched pot never boils?" Kennedy asked, obviously annoyed with me.
"Sorry, friend," I said and shoved my phone back into my bag.
"Well, you wouldn't be such a wreck if you'd just call him, you know?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm not calling him until we get home. I already told you that."
"Fine, just do me a favor and stop checking the time every three seconds?"
I leaned back into the uncomfortable airport chair, pulled out my mp3 player and scrolled through every song, before finally deciding on the Black Keys. Kennedy leaned over, pulled one of the buds from my ear and put it in hers. We sat quietly gazing out the large window and watched as planes came and went.
Our seating zone was finally called and unfortunately we wouldn't be spending our trip home in first class, but we had seats together near the wing of the plane, which was fine by me. We settled into our seats and I was able to snag the window this time around.
For once in my entire adult life, I felt comfortable being on an airplane without my anxiety levels skyrocketing through the roof. There was a true sense of calm mixed with excitement and I couldn't wait to take off.
* * *
"Kennedy! Have you seen my strapless bustier?" I shouted as she came bounding down the hallway through my door.
"What?" She asked.
"My bustier, have you seen it?" I asked again.
"No, isn't it your drawer?"
"Shit! I can't find it," I said as I dismantled my underwear drawer in hopes to find the article of lingerie in question.
"Oh my God, Ally. Take it easy. You have a hour before you have to meet what's-his-name— I'll help you look for it," she said.
Obviously much calmer than I, Kennedy strolled out of my room to search for my bustier, which I know I'd left in my drawer the last time I did laundry. My nerves were getting the best of me and I was on edge because of the gala. I knew I needed to clam down, but I'd never been to an event quite like the one I'd be attending tonight.
As I tossed panties and bras aside, I finally spotted it.
"Got it!" I shouted as I pulled the busier from the drawer.
Kennedy had done my hair in a loose off to the side bun and fastened it with blonde colored bobby pins. Tight curls framed my face and my make-up was perfect.
"Ken! Need help, now!" I shouted and she skipped back into my room.
"I'm here. What'd you do?" She asked.
"Nothing. I need help with my dress, I don't wanna get make-up on it."
She pulled the turquoise dress from its hanger and slipped it over my head, gently. Just like before, the smooth silky fabric clung to my curves and fell to the floor, covering my toes.
"Where are your shoes?" She asked.
"On the dresser," I said and she snatched the silver box.
"Kay, so where's your mask? Please tell me you got a mask."
"I did. It's in my closet," I said, my voice shaky and the nervousness began to take full effect.
She rummaged through my closet and pulled out the black feather mask with a single peacock flume over the left eye.
"Wow," she said and held it up to her face.
"It's too much isn't it?" I asked.
"No. Not at all. It's perfect. Your necklace is gonna look amazing with this."
I adjusted the beaded sleeves and smoothed the soft fabric against my skin.
"Jesus, Ally. You look fucking hot!"
"Thanks, friend," I said smiling at her reflection in the mirror before me.
"When is the car gonna be here to pick you up?" She asked.
"Soon...I think," I said, suddenly forgetting the time Jeanette gave me.
On cue, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," she said and hopped off the bed.
You've got this, Ally. You're strong, amazing and beautiful. You can do this.
I pulled the necklace Melanie loaned me around my neck and fastened the clasp. I took the silver stilettos from their box, sat on the edge of my bed and slid my feet into each one, before locking the clasps on each ankle. I stood and twirled in front of the mirror.
"Madam, you're chauffeur is waiting," Kennedy said in a breathy, phony English accent that made me laugh.
I gathered my clutch and headed for the front door. Kennedy stopped me before I opened it and drew me in for a hug.
"You look stunning, fair princess," she said giggling.
"Why thank you, my liege," I teased and bowed.
"Oh! You forgot your mask," she said and scurried back to my room.
"Thanks, friend. I really don't know what the hell I'd do without you," I said.
"Here," she said and handed me the feathered mask.
"Love you. See you soon," I said and opened the door.
Chapter 19
Brody
"Jesus fucking Christ! I look like a God damn pink penguin!" I shouted as the tailor fixed the bow tie on my white dress shirt.
"Just another moment, Sir," he said, buttoning the mauve colored vest.
> "This is bullshit! Are we in the fucking middle ages or some shit? Did I travel back into time?" I roared. "I mean, if she wanted me to match her, I might as well have worn a goddamn dress, right?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. Miss Fern requested you dress appropriately to match her attire this evening," the tailor said. "Please be still."
"Fine," I huffed and stood in place on the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror as the tailor lifted the black jacket over my shoulders, which only covered a small portion of the hideous pink fucking vest I was wearing underneath.
Once the tailor was finished, he suggested I do something with my unruly hair, which in turn pissed me off, so I gathered my things and walked out of the tailor shop.
The limousine was parked along the curb outside and the driver had waited patiently for over an hour as I got fitted for my god awful tuxedo. I opened the back door before he had a chance to assist me.
"We're good to go, Frank," I said to the driver.
"Of course, Mr. McCabe," he said and pulled the limo away from the curb.
This was going to be a long night. I just hoped Sera wouldn't try anything, because I wasn't sure I could handle her games. I poured a glass of whiskey from the mini bar, leaned back and downed the entire thing in one gulp. I poured another and set it down beside me. The driver announced we would be arriving at the Fern mansion in a few minutes.
The Fern family lived outside Scottsdale on several acres. Mr. Fern was best know for his show Arabian horses. The facility that houses the horses was twice the size of their eight thousand square foot home, nestled against the plateaus that surrounded the city. Sera had been living in the pool house since she was sixteen, with a full staff at her beckon call.
The limo turned down the long drive and stopped outside the gate to announce our arrival. The iron gates slowly swung open, the driveway was lined with palm trees and agave plants and I wondered if Mr. Fern had taken a liking to tequila making along with his many other ventures.
Frank pulled the limo under the porte-cochere and stopped. One of the mansion's staff members greeted him at the bottom of the steps. He nodded and retreated inside. I leaned back into the cool leather seat and sipped on my whiskey.