The Baller (16 page)

“Did you get suspended?”

“I won’t know until tomorrow. A fine is definite, but I’m hoping that’s all I get. Coach was a lot calmer when I left.”

“Where did you go after you talked to him?”

“I just needed some time to clear my head. Get my shit together before I came to you. I don’t want the past to be part of my future anymore.”

“I appreciate that. I really do.”

“Do you forgive me?”

There was so much more I wanted to know. The least of which was whatever became of Willow. Was she still a part of his life? But looking into Brody’s eyes at that moment, I saw what telling the story had done to him. He really needed a break. “I don’t think I forgive you yet.”

“No?”

“Maybe I will after I get those multiple apologies you promised.”

Brody reached down and grabbed a handful of my ass, squeezing. “There’s nothing else I would like to do than fuck you full of sorry.”

What became of Willow could certainly wait until tomorrow.

Delilah

We slept in the next morning, having spent until the sun began to rise working hard on those apologies. Warm water beaded over my achy muscles as I reached out with both hands and braced myself against the shower wall. Closing my eyes, I replayed the way Brody had looked as he’d come undone last night. I wasn’t sure if it was emotions still running high from our talk or not, but the sex had felt special, more intimate. Less like sex and more like making love. The thought made my heart squeeze. The last person I’d felt that with was Drew. I knew it was ridiculous, but a part of me felt guilty for the feelings growing inside of me. Brody had said last night that he wanted to keep the past behind him—I did, too. But in order for me to do that, I needed to tell him that a part of my heart would always be with another man.

I was halfway to my eleven a.m. appointment to interview one of the assistant coaches of the Texas Lions when I got a call that they needed to push back the time until two. Brody had already left for practice, so rather than return to my empty hotel room, I decided to stop for a second, much-needed cup of coffee. The inside of Starbucks smelled of pumpkin and everything fall, which seemed odd considering it was almost eighty outside.

“I’ll have a Pumpkin Spice Latte. I was coming in for a plain old coffee, but the smell got me.”

The tiny barista’s words were spoken rapid-fire, “Tell me about it. I’ve had three already today.”
Gee, I’d never have guessed.

“What’s your name?” She pointed her sharpie to a tall cup.

“Delilah.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

My eyes drifted to her nametag.
Puma

She caught me noticing. “Yep. It’s my real name. My parents were hippies.”

I tried to sound sincere. “It’s nice. Unique.”

“At least they gave me a cool middle name—Ophelia. That sort of sounds like Delilah. And my married name is nice and simple—Oar.”

I smiled and moved to the other end of the counter to wait for
Poo
to make my latte.

Settling into an oversized leather chair in the corner, I sipped my Pumpkin Spice Latte and flipped open my MacBook to catch up on the morning news. My tongue prickled as the hot pseudo coffee burnt the tip.
Damn it.

When I logged into WMBC’s live news webfeed, my eyes did a double take. There, on the front page of an Associated Press sports article, was a picture of Brody and me coming out of the elevator the other day. It was a shot taken from an angle, but you could clearly see his hand on my ass. Then I read the headline.
WMBC Reporter Love Triangle.
Underneath, there were a few pictures of the locker room would-be brawl. One showed Colin up against a locker with Brody’s forearm pressed against his neck. Colin’s face wore the same slimy smirk he’d given me when he was taunting Brody.

Shit.
How would anyone take me seriously after this?

My phone began to buzz.
My office.
I took a deep breath and answered, “Delilah Maddox.”

“Did you have underwear on? I blew the shot up on my laptop, and I see absolutely no panty lines.”

Indie.
Thank God. I let out a huge breath.

“Am I the laughingstock of the office?”

“No idea. I shut my office door as soon as I saw it come across my feed. I might have spent a few minutes ogling Brody’s chest before I moved on to your ass.”

“You’re supposed to be my eyes and ears.”

“After looking at that picture, I’d much rather be your tits and ass.”

I caught Indie up on everything that had transpired, keeping the details of the actual feud behind Brody and Colin to myself. I didn’t want to betray Brody’s confidence—he’d told the story to the woman he was seeing, not the reporter vying for a story. It was best leaving it at “the two men had history.”

“Is he flying back or waiting around for you until you’re done Sunday?”

“We’re both scheduled to fly back with the team after the game.”

“I didn’t think he’d be allowed to fly with the team.”

“Why not?”

“Eh. What the hell do I know? The other article said suspended players couldn’t have contact with any team members or attend the game. I figured they’d make him hitch another way home.”

“Brody doesn’t think he’ll get a suspension, probably just a fine.”

“Uh . . . I guess you didn’t get past looking at your ass on the screen. Brody was suspended. Came across about an hour ago.”

I hung up quickly and scoured the rest of the morning feed until I came across the other article Indie was referring to.
Easton Headed Back East.
The article said he’d been fined and suspended for one game for violating the team’s new personal-conduct policy. Colin Anderson, on the other hand, had only been fined.

Shit.

Double shit.

Brody was going to be devastated he was suspended, and I didn’t even bring my own employer the scoop on a story
I
was involved in.

***

I’d tried calling and texting Brody all afternoon, but he never responded. As soon as my interview wrapped, I headed straight back to the hotel.

“Hey. What are you doing?” Brody was sitting in a chair, the room quiet, a glass full of clear liquid in his hand.

“Proving everyone right.” He gulped back the remainder of his drink.

I sat on the edge of the bed across from him. “I’m sorry. I heard. I tried to reach you, but your phone must be off.”

“It is. Permanently.” He eyed the phone on the table next to him. The screen was smashed. I didn’t need to ask how it happened.

“Is it appealable?”

“I’m not going to appeal it.”

“Why? Especially if Colin only got a slap on the wrist?”

“Because it will just drag me back into a bad place. I don’t need that shit.”

“I don’t understand.”

“After I got drafted into the NFL, I started to move on with my life. Until Willow reappeared again. I lost focus. Crashed my car speeding one night heading to find her when she went on a binge. I started missing practice and workouts, couldn’t concentrate on the game. My performance took a nosedive, and Coach benched me to teach me a lesson. I eventually lost my spot on the team by getting sucked into Willow’s life again.”

“I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I do. After Drew died, I couldn’t let go. My grades dropped. I stopped going to classes. Eventually, I took a semester off. Little by little it got easier, but all it took was the slightest memory, and I would be right back there.”

“I figured he was important to you.”

“He was my fiancé. We got engaged right after high school but wanted to wait until after the draft. He was riding a quad one Saturday and hit something. It flipped over, and he broke his neck. Died instantly.”

Brody blew out a long breath and reached for me. “Come here.” I sat on his lap. “You’re pretty fucking incredible, you know that?”

“Is that the liquor talking, or you?”

“You said liquor and all I heard was ‘lick her.’ I have a flight back to New York tonight. But now I have a hard-on and need a taste before I go.”

“You realize you just went from brooding to perverted in under five minutes.”

“Told ya. I’m moving on.” He started to unbutton my blouse.

“What time is your flight?”

“About an hour after I come inside of you twice. Whatever time that is.”

Brody

Even in the offseason, I stuck to my Tuesday schedule for visiting Marlene. The Sunday staff at Broadhollow Manor had never seen me before. I signed in and introduced myself.

“We spoke on the phone a few times this week. I’m Karen. I do weeknights and Sundays. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Easton.”

“Brody, please.”

She nodded. “Brody.”

“How is she today?”

“Still the same. Whatever it was that made her so upset last week seems to have been forgotten. She’s more like her normal self again.”

“You mean like telling a nurse she should wear less lipstick so people concentrate on her figure more and on her face less?”

Karen covered her smiling mouth. “I heard about that one. She’s a hoot.”

“Says the lady who can pull off bright red, shiny lips.”

The nurse blushed.

“Is she in her room?”

“I think she’s still in the activity room. One of our staff was playing checkers with her when I passed by before.”

I was not expecting that staff member to be Grouper. He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform either. He had on a long-sleeve checkered shirt with a sweater vest over it.

“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Rogers. What are you doing here?” I walked to Marlene and kissed her cheek. “You’re not trying to hit on my woman, are you?”

Grouper waved me off and grumbled something.

“It’s Sunday,” Marlene said. “We play checkers and watch TV. But there’s no football on today.”

“I was in the neighborhood, so thought I’d stop in and check on things.” Grouper tried to play off his visit as casual.

“He turns on my television every week before we play. I don’t really like football, but we play checkers, too, so I don’t say anything.”

“Is that so? The old bastard even comes in on his day off, huh?”

“That’s not nice. He’s not a bastard. He’s just old and moves sort of slow. And a little hard of hearing, too.”

I grinned at Grouper. The only thing I was looking forward to in aging was being able to say whatever the hell was on my mind and getting away with it.

Grouper gave me the evil eye. “It’s quiet in here this Sunday without any games to watch.”

I should have known I was going to hear shit from him about getting suspended. “I’m not happy
there’s no game
today either.”

“You
should be
unhappy. Waste of perfectly good talent to not be playing a game today.”

An hour later, I was sitting across from Marlene, and Grouper was looking on as the two of us played checkers. Five minutes into the game, half of her black pieces were kings, and she’d stolen half my reds. She pulled a double jump I didn’t see coming. “What the hell? You’re a checkers shark?”

Grouper chuckled. “You were sitting there thinking I was letting her win, weren’t you?”

“Actually, I was thinking you weren’t capable of beating her. That’s why I joined in. Give Marlene a little challenge.” I actually
had
thought Grouper was letting her win.

“Only one who ever gave me a run for my money was my Willow.” Marlene slid her piece into my home base. “King me.” Grouper and I looked at each other. Both of us were silently waiting to see what would come next. The last time she’d thought about Willow hadn’t gone well.

“Go easy on me, lady. Or see what happens the next time you want a pastrami on rye from Heidelman’s.”

She waved off my comment. “Tell Willow to bring the wooden checkers set from the bottom cabinet of the china closet in the dining room.” It blew my mind how she could remember where she kept a game board, but couldn’t recall her only granddaughter hadn’t been here to see her in three years.”

“You got it.”

“She said she’s been busy but is coming to see me on my birthday.”

“Oh yeah.”

“And tell her to stop by Zen Garden. They have the best wonton soup.”

Grouper piped in, “The salt in that stuff isn’t good for you.”

Yeah.
No worries there.
I was pretty sure Willow wasn’t coming.

Delilah

My normally jittery nerves were anxious as I boarded the flight back to New York on Monday afternoon. The team and most of the reporters had headed back after the game last night, but I’d had to stay for an interview with a local college running back who was thought to be the number-one draft pick next season. Brody had acted fine when I spoke to him earlier, but I imagined the team’s loss yesterday weighed heavily on his shoulders. The second-string quarterback had thrown four interceptions, any one of which cost the team the loss.