Risky Game (8 page)

The problem was, Brody couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her. He’d known that if he got that second chance, he could coax a response out of her. What he hadn’t been prepared for was the intensity of her response. She was equal parts innocence and sex kitten, a conundrum even when she kissed. He’d been so overwhelmed by the way her body came alive beneath his hands and his lips that he’d nearly taken her right there in the training room. Even more astounding, he didn’t think she’d put up any resistance if he’d tried. His body grew hard just thinking about it, making him squirm on the already uncomfortable banquet chair.

“You got ants in your pants, Janik?”

Brody stifled a groan as Shane Devlin slid into the chair next to him.

“More likely he’s missing his new pretty girlfriend,” Will Connelly said as he folded his big body into the seat on Brody’s other side.

Devlin waved a bag of nacho cheese corn chips in front of Brody’s face. “Chip?”

Brody shook his head and the quarterback reached across to offer the bag to Connelly.

“What’s up with you, Janik?” Connelly asked, taking a handful. “You normally eat like you’ve got a tapeworm.” The damn linebacker was way too observant.

“Just being careful about what I fuel my body with before a game. All the better to optimize my performance.”

Devlin laughed as he crunched on a mouthful of chips.

Connelly eyed him shrewdly for a moment. “What did I tell you about trying to navigate the Internet on your own? Don’t get sucked into one of those crazy diet plans,” he teased.

“Piss off,” Brody said, and the two laughed harder.

Great. Not only was he jonesing for a certain whiskey-eyed bartender, but he had the bad luck to be sandwiched between the team’s two most happily married men; one of whom was waving a tempting snack food in front of his face.

Coach Richardson took the podium and Devlin whispered to Brody. “I’ve got two words for what ails you, Janik.
Phone sex.
”

Connelly snorted beside him as Brody whipped his head around to stare at the quarterback.

Devlin kept his eyes fixed toward the front of the room. “No diet’s gonna fix what’s eating you tonight, Brody. You need to call your girlfriend before you go to bed.”

Brody turned to his right where the linebacker smirked in his chair. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“TMI.” Brody shook his head in bewilderment as both men chuckled beside him. The image of the two men engaging in phone sex with their wives creeped him out. Unfortunately, thinking about talking dirty with Shannon was punishing his body further.
Hell.
It was going to be a long night.

The midmorning sun felt
good on Brody’s shoulders as he jogged the perimeter of the painted football field. Kickoff wasn’t until one o’clock, but it was his habit to take the earlier of the two team buses headed for the stadium. The gates wouldn’t open for another half hour, allowing him to rehearse his routes without the distraction of the crowd.

As he suspected, he’d had a restless night of sleep, but the exactitude of his game day routine enabled him to relax into his playing zone. As he did every home game, Brody walked from the hotel to seven thirty mass at St. Leo the Great. He sat in the back with Sister Agnes, a nun who’d become a local celebrity for her weekly football picks on sports talk radio.

“Make sure you keep an eye on their corner, Chris Bailey. He had some speedy moves against Chicago last week,” she’d whispered during the homily. “He’s faster to the right, so keep him on your inside when you can.”

Talking football with a sixty-two-year-old nun always made Brody smile. Best of all, Sister Agnes knew the game and asked more astute questions than most of the media that hounded him in the locker room after the game. Brody had the benefit of game films to pick up that detail about Bailey, one a normal viewer might miss. He wasn’t convinced that Sister Agnes didn’t bring some divine intervention to her analysis of the game.

But mass had been three hours ago and he was starting to get antsy again. His cell phone buzzed inside the pocket of his shorts. Normally, he’d have turned it off by now, not wanting the distraction of family and friends calling, but he’d texted Shannon with a trumped-up excuse of needing one of her shakes before the game. He figured if she were in the stadium watching, he’d be able to concentrate better on his play. As usual, though, she drove a hard bargain.

She’d texted him back that she’d need two tickets. Brody hadn’t counted on her bringing a date. Instead of his plan helping to mitigate his desire, he’d managed to add jealousy to the catalog of feelings he had for Shannon.

We’re at the VIP entrance. Where should we meet you?

Fans were starting to head to their seats, letting loose cheers and catcalls in Brody’s general direction. The rest of the team would soon be on the field along with their opponent. He needed to head to the locker room, but first he’d face down another opponent—her date. Texting Shannon, he trotted toward the tunnel into the stadium.

When he finally rounded the corner to the VIP entrance, his body fired up at the sight of Shannon. She looked cool and relaxed in a pair of skinny jeans and a black Blaze V-neck T-shirt. Best of all, standing next to her, his face painted red and black, was her young neighbor Maddox.

“Mr. Janik! Lookee what I got done to my face!” A ball of boundless energy, the boy launched himself at Brody. “Shay said I can have a hot dog and maybe some nachos. And we’re gonna stay for the whole game.”

Brody rubbed the top of the boy’s head. “Whoa there, little dude. First of all, you can call me Brody. My dad is Mr. Janik.”

Maddox laughed.

“That’s some pretty fine artwork on your face.”

“The tailgaters were going a little bit crazy out there,” Shannon explained. “Jackie will probably kill me when she sees him.”

“I’m not washing my face. I’m going to school with this on tomorrow.”

Shannon groaned. “We’ll see what your mama has to say about that.”

“Well look who’s here on her day off.” Nate Dumas materialized from the locker room. “Only coaches, players, and
working
Blaze personnel are allowed in this area of the stadium before a game, Shay. Of course, when you’re dating one of the players, you can play fast and loose with the rules. Just keep the kid from getting underfoot.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not staying,” Shannon bit out, her mouth a grim line.

“That’s too bad. I might have let you observe some game day training techniques,” Dumas taunted before he slithered off toward the training area.

Shannon shook her head as Brody tried to convince himself not to go after the trainer and squeeze his throat until his head popped off.

“Can we go out there?” Maddox asked, pointing toward the tunnel leading to the field.

“Not today.” Shannon wrapped an arm around the boy.

“I don’t see why not,” Brody said at the same time. He was so glad she’d brought Maddox and not someone else that he’d promise the kid anything. “Hey, Troy!” He flagged down Shane Devlin’s half brother, one of the team’s ball boys. “Can you take my buddy Maddox out to the field? And maybe grab him a ball so he can get it signed?”

“Sure thing, Brody.” Troy shoved his wire glasses up on his nose. “Come with me.”

“Make sure you stay with Troy, Maddox,” Shannon called after the two boys as they sprinted down toward the sunshine at the end of the tunnel.

Brody needed to get to the locker room to suit up for pregame warm-ups. The problem was his body still hummed with pent-up desire remaining from their interlude in the training room the other day. If he could just talk things out with her, maybe he’d be able to get his head back in the game.

“Shannon, you came.” They were interrupted by one of the coach’s daughters. “I thought you had to study?”

“Hi, Emma. I did,” Shannon said and Brody felt a twinge of guilt for dragging her to the game under false pretenses. “But it was a beautiful day and I brought my little neighbor I was telling you about. He just disappeared out onto the field with one of the ball boys.”

He could hear the worry in her voice. She hadn’t wanted to be separated from the boy, but Brody just wanted a few minutes alone with Shannon. The arrival of the coach’s daughter provided the perfect opportunity. “Hey, would you mind keeping an eye on Maddox while he’s out there so Shannon and I can talk for a minute?”

A knowing smile—eerily similar to her old man’s—spread over the girl’s face. “I’d be happy to.” She crooked an eyebrow at Shannon just before skipping through the tunnel.

Concern clouded Shannon’s eyes. “Are you feeling that poorly, Brody?” She reached into an insulated bag and began to pull out the shake.

“Not here.” He gestured to one of the empty offices the coaches used during halftime to revise the game plan.

“Let me see your latest reading,” she said as she deposited the shake and her bag onto the desk. “How low is it?”

This was the tricky part. “Lower than it should be.” He grabbed the shake, now more like a slushie, and took a pull from the straw.

Shannon’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what does that mean?”

He didn’t answer, instead taking another drink of the fruity concoction.

“Dang it, Brody. There’s nothing wrong with your blood sugar this morning, is there?”

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t drop during the game. And then where would I be with you at home, your nose buried in a book.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” She stomped around the desk. “You are such a big baby, Brody. You can’t stand having to do anything for yourself. Well, I’m not one of your sisters who is going to jump when you bellow. I really don’t know what you want from me.”

“I just want you!”

His admission stopped Shannon in her tracks. Her breathing hitched briefly as she stared into his eyes.

“You don’t want me, Brody,” she said softly.

“The hell I don’t!”

“No, you only think you want me because you can’t have me. You’re not used to being told no. If I’d been willing and easy, I wouldn’t be so interesting. Admit it.” Her voice wavered a bit and her shoulders slumped slightly.

If she’d been willing and easy, he’d have already had her in the training room and he wouldn’t be so damn restless right now. Someone had really done a number on her self-esteem. They’d given her a real inferiority complex. Brody suspected it might have been her twin, the Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. He wanted to tell Shannon how wrong she was; that for such a brainy woman, she really misunderstood the facts. But before he could, she went in for the kill.

“You don’t even trust me, Brody. I’d never sleep with a man who didn’t trust me.”

The silence in the room was profound. Brody couldn’t dispute her argument. He’d been celibate the past several months because he couldn’t trust the women he was involved with to keep his private life private. That didn’t even count the women who made up crap about him. His mother had been devastated two summers ago when a story was leaked that Brody was marrying his pregnant girlfriend. A woman his family had never met who was definitely not pregnant and certainly not his girlfriend. Shannon was no different than the rest of her gender. She’d already proven herself untrustworthy the night she snuck into the locker room.

“I need to go find Maddox,” she said, gathering up her things. “Finish that shake and remember to check your sugar at halftime. If you need it, eat the protein bar I left for you.”

She paused in front of him, her whiskey eyes sad. “Text me if you need me, but you shouldn’t. You’re a big boy, Brody. You can handle this. Now go catch a few touchdown passes.”

Brody waited a few minutes after she slipped out the door to unleash a string of curse words. The fact that she was right didn’t make his body feel any better. His only recourse was to go unleash his frustrations on the football field. And do as she said: catch a few touchdown passes.

He nearly tackled Nate as he left the office.

“Trouble in paradise?” the trainer asked. The guy was really starting to piss Brody off. Couldn’t he mind his own damn business?

“No, dude,” Brody lied as he stalked into the locker room. “Everything is freakin’ wonderful.”

 • • • 

“Here’s your new mail
key, Mr. Metz.” Shay dropped the key into her neighbor’s beefy hand. “Try to keep an eye on it,” she teased. Mr. Metz was a bit of a curmudgeon, but he was quiet and he did his part to keep the place neat by mowing the lawn each week. Technically speaking, cutting the grass was Shay’s job, but he’d taken over one afternoon when she’d nearly wrenched her arm out of the socket trying to get the mower started. In exchange, Shay baked him brownies or cookies.

Mr. Metz murmured his thanks and Shay made her way up the stairs. A familiar giggle rang out as she rounded the corner. Maddox was sitting outside his apartment door with a book in his hands, a familiar pair of long legs decked out in yellow running shoes spread out beside him.

Maddox looked up from the book; the red and black face paint had faded, but the blaze was still noticeable. After a convincing victory over San Francisco the day before, including a touchdown reception by Brody, Jackie had relented and let Maddox keep his “tattoo” for show-and-tell.

“Hi, Shay! We’re reading.”

Shay smiled at the boy. “I see that. What are you doing here, Brody?”

“Phonics.” He accompanied his smart-aleck answer with that slow easy smile that never failed to make her stomach dip.

Carefully stepping over his muscled legs and trying not to look at how nicely they were displayed in a pair of khaki shorts, Shay unlocked her apartment door. Brody rose to his feet behind her as if to follow her in.

“What do you want, Brody?” she snapped.

She hadn’t meant to sound so peevish, but she was tired from a late night of studying for her early morning statistics test. That was followed by two hours in her un-air-conditioned Corolla staking out Brody’s house until after he’d left for the practice facility so she could prepare his dinner and leave it neatly packaged in his fridge without him tormenting her. After that, she’d taught her water aerobics class.

But mostly, she was tired of fighting off her body’s reaction every time he came near her.

“I’m hungry.” His breath was warm on the back of her neck and before she realized it, he was standing in her apartment.

They both knew his excuse was a bald-faced lie, but Shay didn’t have the strength to tell him to leave.

“I got Skittles.” Maddox pulled a snack-sized bag of the brightly colored candy out of his pocket and offered them to Brody.

Shay snatched the bag out of the child’s hand before Brody could take them. “He can’t have that. And neither can you, Maddox. You’ll spoil your dinner.”

“Mom said we could have pizza for dinner.” Maddox rubbed his belly. “Umm. Hey, maybe you could eat with us, Brody? Pizza’ll fill you up.”

“Brody can’t have pizza, either,” Shay said.

“Dang, Brody. Did you forget to leave the seat down or something? How come you can’t have candy or pizza?” Maddox asked earnestly.

The corner of Brody’s mouth twitched.

“Brody has a perfectly good dinner at home, Maddox.”

Maddox’s shoulders slumped forward and his voice went soft. “That’s what Danny’s mom always says when I invite him over for dinner.”

And just like that, Shannon had turned into her Meemaw, nasty as the Wicked Witch of the West. Brody stared at her, hands on his hips. His mouth was a grim line, but his eyes twinkled at her as though he knew the battle she was fighting within her own head.

“Maddox, go tell your mother I’m buying,” he said.

With a high-pitched whoop, Maddox raced next door.

Shay shook her head in defeat. “You’re going to mess everything up.”

He tossed his OneTouch onto the table. “My blood sugar has been stable for a week now. Go ahead. Check and see.”

She’d been talking about more than his blood sugar, but if he understood what she meant, he ignored her.

“I can handle a couple of slices of pizza and a beer.”

“Beer?” Shay nearly choked. “Who said anything about beer?”

Brody winked at her. “You can’t have pizza without beer. It’s sacrilege.”

“Are we gonna have beer, too?” Maddox practically shrieked as he ran back in.

“Root beer for you, little dude. Go ask Mrs. Elder what she wants on her pizza.”

“Okay. But don’t give her any beer. It makes her burp somethin’ awful.” Maddox scooted back outside.

Apparently, Brody was inviting the entire complex to his impromptu pizza party.

“I fixed you a perfectly healthy meal. It’s in your refrigerator.”

In two strides he was standing within arm’s length. “Yeah. But while I’m eating my nutritious meal, what would you be eating?”