Lexington and 42nd (The Off Field Series #1)

by Kim Carmody

  A beat passed and before I could stop them, the words were out of my mouth. “Who are you bringing?”

  “No one.”

  “No one?” I shifted to face him properly. “Is that even allowed? Surely somewhere in your quarterback rule book, it mentions never turning up to a club function without a model on your arm?”

  Will laughed. “I must have skimmed over that bit when I was studying for my quarterback finals.”

  “Seriously, Will, you have a reputation to uphold. People will start talking if you don’t turn up with a lucky lady. Surely it’s not too much effort to scroll through your black book.”

  I expected another laugh but instead he frowned, his chest deflating as he exhaled. “You know, you shouldn’t believe everything you read. Or hear for that matter. I’ve dated plenty of women, but it’s not like I have a new one on my arm every week.”

  My voice was annoyingly quiet when I spoke. “I didn’t mean it to sound…”

  “I know. I just wanted you to know things aren’t always as they seem. Don’t trust everything you hear. Or read for that matter.” He grinned. “Do you really think she’d be a lucky lady though?”

  Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “I’m still making up my mind.”

  I grinned at Will as he put the car in park in front of my apartment block.

  “What?”

  “I guess this is the part where I don’t invite you up to my apartment.”

  Will laughed. “Seriously? I drove you all this way for nothing?”

  “‘Fraid so. Thanks for the lift though.”

  He smiled at me. “Any time. Wouldn’t want you freaking out in the Midtown traffic.”

  I pulled the door open and jumped out. “I’ll see you. Thanks again.”

  I shut the door and watched him pull away from the curb, hyper aware of the warm fuzzy feeling spreading through me again.

  This had disaster written all over it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Why can’t I just get the other dress? It was fine!”

  To the annoyance of the herds of people walking along Fifth Avenue, Julia stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and glared at me.

  “Emma, is that how you want to look for your first major event? Fine? No. You want to look spectacular. Trust me, I remember from last year with Sarah—this event is a BIG deal. We have to find the right dress.” She turned and kept marching and I had to half run to keep up with her. How she moved so quickly in stilettos was a mystery. Why she would wear them on the weekend was an even bigger one.

  At Julia’s insistence, we had been shopping since stores opened that morning. Last night when I had come home and mentioned I wasn’t sure what to wear to the Warriors’ fundraiser, she had gone a little nuts. It would appear I may have underestimated the significance of the event.

  Julia pushed open the door to Stella McCartney.

  “Uh-uh, no way Julia. Why bother looking when I can’t afford anything in the store?”

  She let out an exasperated sigh as she pulled me in behind her. “The prices aren’t that bad, and besides her stuff will look amazing on you.”

  #

  Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the dressing room in a dress that I begrudgingly had to admit Julia was right about—it was amazing.

  It was a deep blue, floor-length gown that was form fitting and hugged me in all the right places. From just above my chest, mesh panelling reached to wrap around the base of my neck and at the back, the dress was cut dangerously close to the bottom of my spine, with only a thin piece of silk reaching from my neck down the length of my back.

  “Jensen’s going to die when he sees you.”

  My head snapped up. “No, he won’t. I probably won’t even see him. Besides, regardless of how he reacts, I’m not dressing for him.”

  But was I? Secretly, I couldn’t deny that the thought of seeing Will’s reaction gave me a thrill.

  Julia’s smile spread slowly as I squirmed under her gaze. “Don’t get all defensive with me missy. I never said you were dressing for him.” She poked me in the arm. “I believe it was you who suggested that.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I turned to the shop assistant. “How much is this dress?”

  She smiled politely. “It’s fourteen hundred dollars. Plus tax.”

  I looked back at Julia and shook my head. “I’m not spending fourteen hundred dollars plus tax on a dress. No matter how good it looks.”

  “Oh yes you are. There is no way we’re leaving here without that dress. It would be a worse fashion crime than wearing a scrunchie after 1992.”

  “But I can’t afford it.”

  “I don’t care if you don’t have enough money to eat for the rest of the month, you’re getting that dress.” She pushed me back into the fitting room. “Now move it. I’ve managed to get you an appointment with my hair dresser in thirty minutes.”

  #

  Three hours later, I was just about ready and seriously excited. All the fussing Julia had made over the event had rubbed off on me. My hair was pulled into a loose low bun and smoky eye makeup highlighted the deep blue of my dress. The overall look was both sexy and elegant and if I could find another ten or so occasions to wear it, it might even justify the money I’d spent.

  Julia looked up as I walked into the living room and let out a low whistle. “Wow. Just wow. You’re going to be the belle of the ball.”

  I laughed. “I highly doubt that. But seriously, thanks for today. I really had no idea what a big deal this is. If you left it to me, God knows what I would have turned up in.”

  She smiled. “What can I say? I’m the perfect roommate.”

  #

  The fundraiser was at The Plaza Hotel and as our car pulled up to the entrance, I finally understood what Julia meant by a big deal. There was media everywhere, literally rows and rows of reporters. It was clipboard city with all the PR girls racing around speaking into their headsets. I silently thanked God for Julia and her insistence on going all out with the dress.

  As I followed Carrie out of the car she turned and grabbed hold of my arm. “Just stick with Dana and me until we get through this mess and you’ll be fine.”

  The heat from all the blinding lights was what struck me first, the way the temperature shot up about ten degrees the minute I stepped into the spotlight. And the noise, it was like white noise turned up to an almost deafening volume, each TV network and reporter fighting for air time with the rich and famous.

  About halfway down the gauntlet, Carrie nudged me, winking as she said, “Well if it isn’t your driver, Em.”

  I followed her gaze to see Will a few feet away being interviewed. His broad frame was encased in a tux and he looked just as relaxed in it as he had in his training gear. I wasn’t sure I’d ever met someone who was so comfortable in their skin. He was laughing at something the reporter had said and it made me itch to hear the sound.

  I watched him for a few more seconds before realizing both girls were looking at me.

  “What?”

  Dana nudged my side. “Enjoying the view much?”

  I gave a small smile. “Oh come on, only as much as both of you are.”

  Dana shrugged. “Touché.”

  All three of us laughed and looked back to where Will stood, only to find him staring back at us. Or more specifically, me. I met his eyes and a jolt went through me as I followed the way his gaze moved slowly up and down my body, coming back to land on my face. His eyes were hooded and without question, I knew he was imagining me without the dress on. I could literally feel him peeling it off, and I was sure if I closed my eyes, I could feel his touch on my skin. I could see his lips moving in response to a question, but his eyes never left mine and I became simultaneously uncomfortable and excited all at the same time.

  “I’m not sure Jensen even realizes he’s on live TV right now.” I looked over at Carrie who was still staring at Will.

  “Come on, let’s get inside. I’m hungry.” I tugged on her arm.


  “Are you serious? This is probably the most exciting thing that’s going to happen all night.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I made the mistake then of looking back at Will and found he was still staring at me. Still undressing me. Not knowing what else to do, I lifted my hand and wiggled my fingers, giving him the least obvious wave I could manage.

  He raised his chin in acknowledgement and held up his index finger, silently asking me to wait while he turned back to the reporter, extending his hand to shake hers and effectively ending the interview. I heard both Dana and Carrie gasp beside me.

  Oh hell no, there was absolutely no way I was speaking to him on the red carpet. He who had at least fifty cameras trained on him, capturing his every movement.

  “Girls, let’s go. Like now.” I pushed Dana in front of me up toward the ballroom. Thankfully much-needed champagne was being handed out as we entered the room. I grabbed one and gulped at least half of it down in one go, in a somewhat unladylike manner that was in contrast to my dressed-up state.

  “Um, what on earth was that back there?” Dana glanced from me to Carrie and back to me again.

  Carrie took a large swig of her drink. “It would appear that Jensen’s a bit taken with our lovely Emma here.”

  “You think? I could feel the sexual tension oozing off him and he wasn’t even looking at me!” Dana shook her head. “Far out Em. You’d better be careful, because he looked like he was going to devour you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic…he was probably just being friendly.”

  Carrie laughed. “Trust me, there was absolutely nothing friendly about the way he looked at you. Nothing at all.”

  “Well either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m steering clear of him tonight. Can we find our table now please?”

  The ballroom was spectacular, the old world charm apparent in every detail. Our table was a few rows back and the rest of the team was there when we arrived. I was seated between James and Carrie who, somewhere between starters and mains, decided that my accent was completely hilarious.

  Carrie clapped her hands, bouncing on her seat like a child. “Say something else in Australian!”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “You do realize we actually speak the same language, don’t you?”

  “You know what I mean, give us an Aussie one-liner. They sound so funny.”

  “Fine.” I paused momentarily, thinking of something quintessentially Australian and dialling up my accent. “Throw anutha shrimp on tha bar-bee, luv!”

  “Sounds like this table is the place to be.”

  I jumped at the sound of Will’s voice and turned to find him standing right behind me, arms resting on my chair back.

  James offered his hand to Will. “Hey Jensen, how’s it going?”

  He moved to stand between me and James and gave a few small waves and nods to the team around the table before grinning at the three of us. If I hadn’t already been sitting, the grin alone might have bowled me over.

  “What’s so funny over here? I could hear you laughing halfway across the room.”

  Carrie clapped her hands together. “We’ve been making Em say things in her Australian accent.” She prodded my arm. “Say something else!”

  Mortified, I shook my head. “No way, I’m done with the accent game tonight. You’ll have to find something else to amuse you.”

  James tipped his drink my way. “Oh, c’mon Em…just do one for Jensen.”

  I looked up to Will who was looking at me with one eyebrow cocked. “Trust me, you really don’t want to hear this.”

  He grinned. “Really? Because I kinda think I do.”

  Carrie laughed from behind me and slapped my hand. “See Em? Do another one, please?”

  Getting flustered, I looked from Will to Carrie and then to James. “No! Just…No! No more accent game. We’re done. Finished with the accent game.”

  Will sighed. “Okay, we get it. You don’t want to play anymore.” I flinched as he pulled my chair out from the table. “Come on, let’s go dance then.”

  It’s funny how true the concept of selective hearing can be sometimes. The volume of Will’s voice hadn’t changed at all since joining our conversation, yet for some reason every person at the table seemed to hear that.

  All ten pairs of eyes moved to Will’s face, and silence descended.

  I laughed, the embarrassed kind you do in an effort to not sound embarrassed…which made me sound completely embarrassed. “It’s too early to dance, Will.”

  Will grinned. “Since when has it ever been too early for dancing?” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you do want to keep playing the accent game.”

  I swallowed. “I…Ah, sure, I guess a dance would be nice.”

  Feeling ten pairs of eyes on me, I slowly put my napkin on the table as Will pulled my chair out further. Glancing toward Dana and Carrie I silently pleaded with them, although for what, I wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway as all I got were wide eyes staring back at me. They were as shocked as I was. I didn’t risk glancing at Mark; I really didn’t want to know what his face must have looked like.

  Will took my hand the second I was up from the table and lead me through the room toward the dance floor. As the night was still relatively young, there was a blues band playing background music and only a few couples were on the dance floor, all of them twice our age. Will turned and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in until there was no space between us. If I thought I’d felt like a deer in headlights on the red carpet, this was on a totally different level.

  I stared directly into his chest as we swayed to the music, afraid to look up at him, or over his shoulder at the watching crowd. I tried to get my head around how I’d gone from minding my own business with friends to being the center of attention dancing with Will in the space of less than sixty seconds.

  “Hey, you’re shaking.” His voice was soft. It was a new sound and I liked it.

  “Can you blame me? Why did you do that, Will?”

  “Do what?”

  “You know what. Why did you pull me out here?”

  “I thought I was doing you a favor. You know, saving you from more embarrassment.”

  I deadpanned him.

  “Okay fine, maybe I just wanted to dance with you.”

  Well really, what’s a girl supposed to say to that?

  “You look beautiful.”

  I looked up and met his eyes; it was a mistake. I swallowed. “Thank you.”

  He stared at me a beat before speaking again. “Come home with me tonight.” His hand at my waist squeezed and his voice became even softer, like sun-warmed honey. “And this time, I don’t mean just to hang out.”

  It took a few seconds to register what he’d said, and then a few more to decide if I should be furious or delighted.

  “What did you just say?”

  He winked. “You heard me.”

  I gaped at me. “Please tell me you didn’t just say what I think you did?”

  He leaned down and I felt the stubble along his jaw graze my cheek before he whispered in my ear. “You shouldn’t have worn that dress if you weren’t planning on coming home with me, Bambi.”

  Oh my God.

  “Will…you can’t, you can’t do this.”

  “Do what? Ask you to come home with me?”

  “Yes! You definitely can’t do that, and well…all of it actually. I meant what I said at lunch. No more flirty eyes and one-liners. This is my job.”

  “But I can’t help it. I don’t want to stop flirting with you. Is that such a bad thing?”

  Not sure how to respond to that, I dropped my forehead to his chest in exasperation and we continued swaying in silence. After a few beats, his hand began moving along the bare skin of my back in a soothing up-and-down motion and I realized I could feel his heart beating through his chest. It took quite a bit of willpower on my behalf not to nuzzle into the side of his neck.

  How difficult could it be to turn him down
? But I was strong—I could do this. While tempting as hell, a one-night stand with Will was not worth my reputation or my job, let alone the potential demise of the Sydney Football Club if I stuffed things up.

  Sighing, I looked up at him. “Look, I appreciate your interest in me, really I do. It’s a big confidence booster. Huge. But you’re wasting your time, Will. I’m only here for a year and the last thing I want is to be remembered as the girl on exchange who slept with the quarterback.”

  His eyebrows went up in surprise. “You’re seriously worried that’s what people will think? That’s why you’re turning me down?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course that’s what people will think. Have you ever slept with any of the girls from the office before?”

  He considered this for a second before nodding, having the decency to look slightly sheepish. “I might have.”

  “Right, and how long did she last at the club after that happened?”

  Will frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t think I saw her again after it happened.”

  “My point exactly. Sleeping with the players is not cool, and there’s a reason the girls that do it aren’t around for long.”

  “Em, that girl threw herself at me in a very obvious and very public way and trust me, she didn’t give a shit about what it looked like, or keeping her job. You’re nothing like that. You’re clearly not here to sleep around—you didn’t even know who I was the first time we met.”

  I gave a little laugh. “Don’t remind me. Can you please stop making this so hard? I must be the only unattached woman here tonight that won’t go home with you. Can’t you just find someone else?”

  Even as the words came out of my mouth, the thought of Will actually doing so made my skin crawl.

  Tilting his head down so our noses were close to touching he said, “I don’t want to go home with anyone else. I want you.”

  Oh my God, I want you too, I wanted to say but I didn’t.

  I shook my head. “No. We have to work together. I don’t want things to be awkward between us and regardless of what you say, I do care what people think.”

  He sighed, pulling me closer as he shook his head. “I’ll back off Em, but just so you know, you’re killing me over here. A man can only take so much rejection.”