Taking the Handoff, page 5
Jason turns heated eyes on me. “Is that right?”
“It is.”
“What kind of music do you sing?”
I’m prepared for this. “I write my own. My sound is a mix between Florence and the Machine, Julia Michaels, and Ella Henderson.”
His eyebrows lift. “I’d really like to hear that.”
My heart beats excitedly. Could this be my chance to make my dreams finally come true?
Jason reaches into his pocket and grabs a pen off the table. He scribbles on the back and then hands me his business card. “That’s my personal cell number. Give me a call, and we’ll set up a meeting to talk about your career.”
“I’d love that.”
When Bernie and I leave the club a few hours later, I’m feeling lighter than when we got there, and not because of the number of drinks we had but because things are finally starting to turn around for me. I’m one step closer to reaching my dreams. Now, if only I could make my dream about a certain Wolves player come true.
Eight
Keeping Emma at arm’s length has been harder than I expected. I’ve been forced to find as many activities to stay out of the house as possible.
I can’t believe I’ve been driven out of my own damn house by the girl who used to collect what she called potato bugs as pets and refused to call them roly-polies when everyone knows that’s what they’re actually called. They don’t even look like a potato.
God, why am I even thinking about that stupid memory? Fuck, she’s messing with my head, and she doesn’t have a clue. I thought maybe my house would be safe when she’s at work, but her scent is everywhere. The soft lilac fragrance permeates it and will hit me out of nowhere when I’m just trying to mind my own damn business. Just that one smell and I’m lost to thoughts I one hundred and fifty percent should NOT be having.
I’ve never been so thankful to have the excuse of an away game.
We won our game against the Steelers, and now I’m out celebrating with a bunch of guys on the team. The Fierce Four—Gabe Romero, Romel Watson, Dominic Smith, and Tyler Russell—are bunched a few seats to my right. Will just went to the bathroom. Jack Fuller, our quarterback, already went back to the hotel to call his fiancée, and I’m pretty sure Matt didn’t even bother coming out.
Matt’s acting weird and evasive lately. I wish I knew what was going on with him. He’s always been a pretty easygoing guy—cocky, confident, driven, and a total ladies’ man. But something has changed lately. I’ve asked him more than once what’s going on, and I feel like a fucking broken record. I’m not used to my friends keeping secrets from me. Drew and I have always been honest with each other about everything.
Which definitely only adds to my frustration and guilt when it comes to this insane attraction I feel toward his sister.
My loyalty is to Drew.
I repeat the mantra in my head until I feel a hand on my left arm. I glance up from where I was staring at my beer on the bar counter to see a beautiful brunette perched on the stool next to me.
“Is this seat taken?”
I toss her a friendly smile. “Nope, all yours.”
She crosses her leg, angling her body toward me. I know the move well, and under normal circumstances I would be engaging her in a conversation that would hopefully end up with me buried inside her by the end of the night.
But I have zero interest. There’s not a single flutter of excitement in my gut or slight pulse in my dick. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Maybe I need to lay off the booze. I mean, I’ve only had one beer, but that has to be the problem, right?
I refuse to believe it could be anything else.
I grip the back of my neck and glance over at the very sexy brunette who bats her lashes at me and gives me a flirty smile. Maybe I should try to pursue this anyway. Getting laid might help me stop thinking about Emma. And this woman is giving me all the signs that say she’s looking for a good time.
But the idea of fucking her when Emma’s been owning all the thoughts in my brain makes me feel a little queasy—and maybe even a little too much like my dad. When I’m with a woman, my sole focus is on her, and as much as I loathe to admit it to myself, that wouldn’t be the case tonight.
A hand slaps my back, and I glance up at Will standing near the stool on my right that he vacated a few minutes ago. “You getting another beer, or you thinking of heading back to the hotel soon?”
I look at my nearly empty beer and see the brunette shift in my periphery. The movement causes her dress to move up her leg, exposing more of her smooth, tan thighs. She clears her throat just as I’m about to respond to Will and places her delicate hand back on my arm.
“You should stay,” she says in a sultry voice.
No. I should definitely go. In one large gulp, I down the rest of my beer and stand, turning to Will. “Let’s head back.”
Will’s a pretty stoic guy, always has been, so it doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t ask about the brunette or why I’m brushing her off when she is very clearly a sure thing.
What does surprise me is how badly I want to talk about it with him. We exit the bar into the cold night air and start walking. Our hotel is only a couple of blocks away.
“Have you ever been interested in someone you shouldn’t be interested in?” The words tumble out of my mouth before my brain has a chance to stop them. Normally, I would talk to Drew about this kind of thing, but that’s a big no for obvious reasons, and I can’t talk to Matt because he’s clearly got something else going on, so Will’s the next best thing.
“Who are you interested in?”
“It’s a hypothetical question.”
He arches a brow. “Uh-huh.”
I huff out a breath and watch it blow out of my mouth. It’s so damn cold my nipples could cut glass. Why is Pittsburgh so fucking cold in the winter?
I cave, because I need to get this off my chest, and let the words spill out. “You know my best friend, Drew?”
“Yeah, the lawyer who hangs out with us when he comes to visit?”
“Yeah. Well, his sister moved down here from Seattle to pursue a singing career.”
He lets out a whistle. “That’s a tough gig in LA.”
“Yeah, no shit. Well, she rented out this apartment that she thought would be fine but turned out to be massively sketchy, and the next thing I know she’s living with me. And she’s making me coffee in the mornings, and she looks nothing like I fucking remember. I mean, she was an awkward kid. She had the whole freckle-faced, carrot top, four-eyes thing down pat, and then she shows up looking like a goddamn knockout, and I can’t fucking sleep or eat or even be in my own house.” I stop in my tracks and finally take a damn breath. Grabbing his arm, I add, “She’s driven me out of my own damn house, man.”
Will’s face contorts for a split second before he keels over laughing his ass off. My shoulders sag in disbelief. This asshole is seriously laughing at me right now. I’m living in hell, and he’s fucking laughing.
“Are you for real, man? This is not a laughing matter!”
He raises his hand and shakes his head. Tears form at the corners of his eyes while I just stand there in dismay. Finally, he heaves in a couple of deep breaths and stands up straight again.
“Okay, okay, sorry.” He clears his throat, trying—and failing—to find complete composure. With a glimmer in his eye, he says, “So, you finally found a woman who knocked you off your axis.”
“That’s not what’s happening.”
“That’s what it sounds like to me.”
“No. I don’t like Emma.” I don’t. I can’t. “I’m just thrown because it’s been five years since I last saw her, and she looks completely fucking different. I’m only human, so of course I’d find her attractive, right? That’s a normal response.”
Will just smiles at me, which does not make me feel better.
“You have sisters. How would you feel if one of your friends was attracted to one of them?”
He shrugs. “Depends on the friend and his intentions.”
My jaw drops a little. I wasn’t expecting that answer. I was expecting a firm no. It’s bro code. You do not date your friend’s sister.
“You’re telling me you’d be okay with one of your friends—let’s just say your best friend—dating your sister?”
“Like I said, it depends on his intentions. If he’s just using her, then no, I wouldn’t be okay with that. But if he cared about her and they were genuinely trying to make a go of it, then sure, why not?”
“Because he’s your best friend!”
He frowns at me. “Yeah, which means I know he’s a good guy. I’m not friends with assholes. Why would I have a problem with my sister dating someone who I know will treat her right?”
I stare at him in absolute shock. He’s so sure about his response that it has me questioning if Drew would respond as well as Will has.
What would Drew say if I admitted the truth to him? If I admitted that I find his sister attractive? I think about Will’s response long after we part ways into our individual hotel rooms. One word keeps circling around my brain.
Intentions.
Will said he’d be fine with it as long as his friend’s intentions were good.
I know I’m attracted to Emma, but it’s been five years since I’ve seen her, and while I’ve known her my entire life, I don’t really know her.
I need to figure out what my intentions are with Emma. Is this just some weird attraction because it’s been too long since I was in a relationship? Or could this be more?
Only one way to find out.
Nine
“Can you pass the Skittles?”
I bend over, reaching for the bowl of Skittles on the coffee table in Luke’s giant living room. Bernie is lounging on the other end of his sectional as 10 Things I Hate About You plays on his big screen TV.
When he said he was going out of town for an away game, I figured that was the perfect opportunity for a girls’ night—something Bernie and I have been talking about for a while.
“Thanks,” she says when I hand her the bowl. “So, how long will Luke be away for?”
“Just a day or two, I think, not that it feels all that different from when he’s here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Luke’s never around.” I turn my body toward Bernie and pull my knees up to my chest as I lean on the armrest. “Drew made it sound like he was kind of a homebody, but he’s rarely ever here. It’s like he finds some excuse to leave whenever I’m home, which admittedly is most of the time since I’ve been working on more music, and I prefer to do that in private.” I nibble my lip. “I feel like he’s avoiding me in particular.”
Bernie turns her body so she’s facing me, her legs crisscrossed. “Why would he be avoiding you?”
“I have no idea. Unless…”
She raises her brows in anticipation. “Unless what?”
I cover my face and groan before answering. “Unless he’s caught on that I still have a crush on him. Maybe this is just his polite way of brushing me off until I find a new place.”
She tilts her head and stares up at the ceiling, clearly thinking hard. “What if it’s something else? What if he’s just busy? I mean, it is football season, and don’t players always have sponsorships and shit that they have to juggle on top of practices and games?”
“You think I’m just overreacting?”
She shrugs. “You could be. Give it more time. You’ve only been living with him for a couple of weeks.”
“That’s true. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve overreacted.”
She smiles at me with understanding in her eyes. “Girl, I feel that.”
We turn back toward the TV and watch the movie for a bit before Bernie speaks without looking away from the screen.
“Kat Stratford always made being the outcast look cool. She’s such a badass who doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of her, but that’s not always reality.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, munching on some popcorn.
“I mean, sometimes being the outcast can be really lonely. When your family doesn’t understand you or puts you down because you’re different from them, it can make you feel like no one in the world will ever get you.”
I stare at her, my jaw dropped. It’s like she’s in my head. “And like maybe there’s something wrong with you.”
She turns to me, and I know in this moment our friendship just solidified itself even further. She nods.
“My parents think I’m wasting my time pursuing music. They’ve hardly spoken to me since I moved here because they’re mad at me,” I confess.
Her gaze is sympathetic. “I haven’t talked to my family in five years.”
Bernie’s my age, so that means she hasn’t talked to her family since she was seventeen. “What happened?”
Her eyes get glassy, and her voice has the slightest catch when she says, “That’s a long, depressing story.”
I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to push her if she’s not ready.
“You were only seventeen. Where did you live?”
She drops her gaze down to her hands resting in her lap. “I moved in with JJ. He and I were dating, and his parents were never around, so I just secretly moved in with him and then when we turned eighteen, we got our own place together.”
“And you’ve been together ever since.”
She nods but still doesn’t look up. She doesn’t talk a whole lot about her boyfriend, but what she does share makes him sound more like a friend than a boyfriend.
“Do you love him?”
“I don’t believe in love.”
“What? How is that possible?”
She looks up at me now, and I see tears pooling in her eyes, but she brushes them away before they have a chance to fall down her face. “I’ve never seen love except what’s depicted in movies or books. My parents got married because they thought that’s what you do when you get knocked up at sixteen. I don’t think they ever loved each other, but they’re both too stubborn and determined to prove their own parents wrong so they won’t divorce each other. Instead, they’ve stayed in a loveless marriage where they can barely stand the other. They even sleep in separate rooms.
“When JJ and I got together, I was attracted to his drive to succeed, but then we moved in together and he just gave up. He works at a gas station making minimum wage, and when he comes home, he just plays video games. But he treats me well. He’s nice to me. He doesn’t nitpick my life, and the sex is still pretty good, so I don’t see any point in changing the status quo.”
She shrugs and turns her head back to the TV, but her eyes have that faraway look that tells me she’s not actually seeing what’s on the screen.
I stare at her, still too shocked to move. That’s the most she’s ever shared about her family, and I have a million follow-up questions—about both her family and JJ—but I get the sense if I push, she’ll shut down. Instead, I crawl across the couch and wrap her up in a big hug. She’s stiff for a second before she lets out a sigh and sags into my hug, her arm reaching up to hug me back.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She gives me a small smile, and then I move back to my seat, and we continue watching the movie.
* * *
Drew’s name flashes on my screen. “Hey, D. You have good timing. I’m on a break at work.”
“Great. I was hoping I could catch you since it’s been a few days. I’ve been slammed with this case.”
“No worries. What’s up?”
“I was just calling to check in and see how you’re settling into LA. Any leads on a new place?”
“I’m looking, but so far nothing. All the apartments I’ve found are either out of my budget or in a shady part of town. I found one place I loved, but there were like ten other people who applied for it, so I didn’t get it. Bernie has a friend who might be subletting her place soon, and that has potential, but I won’t know for a few weeks.”
“Well, keep me posted. Everything going okay with Luke? He hasn’t called me complaining yet, so I’m guessing you two are getting along okay.” He says it with a laugh, but my stomach clenches because I know the real reason he hasn’t complained.
“He’s actually never home.”
“What?” He laughs in disbelief. “Luke’s always home when he’s not on the road.”
I nibble my lip. Drew’s not making me feel any better about the doubts I already had. In fact, he’s just confirmed I was right.
“I think maybe he’s avoiding me.”
There’s silence on the other end before Drew responds, all hint of laughter completely gone. “Did you say or do something? Because Luke loves his house. You don’t still have that damn crush on him, do you? I thought we talked about that years ago.”
I ignore his comment about my crush. It’s the one secret I’ve kept from him since that conversation. “I didn’t do anything. He’s just not been around. Maybe you should ask him.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, it is.” He groans. “Okay, how old are we, because that felt a little too high school for comfort.”
I let out a laugh. “We’re siblings. Do we ever truly get over having the occasional immature fight?”
“I wouldn’t say that was a fight.”
I glance at the clock. “Fair, but I gotta go. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sounds good, Squish. Love you.”
“Love you too, D.”
I hang up and head out to the bustling restaurant. I try to stay focused on my customers and orders, but my conversation with my brother keeps cycling through my mind.
As the night wears on, I come to two definite conclusions. Luke is definitely avoiding me, and he hasn’t talked to my brother about it. But those conclusions only lead to a slew of questions. Why wouldn’t Luke talk to Drew? They tell each other everything. Is it possible I did something that made Luke uncomfortable?
