Beauty and the Baller(67)

Melinda eases her arm through mine as her dad shakes my hand. They lead me through the spacious house and to the grounds outside with acres of rolling hills in the distance. A huge white tent is set up with a DJ in the back. White-covered tables, champagne fountains, an elaborate buffet, and caterers dot the area. We end up at a table with other men who played football back in the day with Mr. Tyler. I get introduced around and say the usual things: Glad you came. Thank you for the support. Yes, the team looks incredible this season.

A few minutes later, I head to the podium and give a welcome speech to the guests. My eyes search for Nova and find her in the back with Sonia and Andrew and a few other faculty members. I pause midspeech, my gaze locking with hers.

I was already half in love with you . . .

What a crazy thing to say. Incredible, seemingly impossible, yet—

She sends me a fake adoring smile, then tips her glass of champagne up at me. I clear my throat, find my place, and finish. The partiers erupt in applause. Then Lois joins me and presents a slideshow of the games this season.

After the speeches are over, someone grabs me a water and a plate of food as I survey the crowd. The DJ plays a fast song, and I see several of my players dancing, along with Sonia and Nova.

Lois appears next to me wearing a floor-length maroon dress and her Stetson. “Nova’s having fun.”

“I see that,” I grunt.

She munches on a quiche. “You two look good together. You think it might be serious?”

I give her a pointed look. “Stay out of my love life.”

“You’re the one who asked for her to be your PA. I wasn’t going to meddle any longer after the party, but you insisted we give it to her.” She takes a drink of her champagne.

“She doesn’t know I got her the job.” My head tumbles with thorny thoughts, deciphering the reasons why I wanted her. She needed a job, and she loved football. Plus, I owed her something after that night in New York. The analytical side of me thought it would be a great idea after that kiss in the bookstore to ask her to fake date me. I even covered it with HR beforehand, although if the answer had been no, I still would have given the nod for her to have the job.

Skeeter slides in next to me, watching the crowd on the dance floor. He nudges me with his elbow. “I don’t see Sonia’s date.”

I shake my head at him. “Skeeter, she broke up with that accountant months ago.”

He starts. “She did?”

“She mentioned it at lunch when it happened. You might have been on your phone.”

“I never liked him. He didn’t like football. I tried to talk to him at the last party, but it was like talking to a calculator.”

“Ask her to dance.”

“Why does she talk British? Is that weird?”

I chuckle. “She’s quirky. Embrace it.”

He squints, lasering in on Sonia. “I’m just a country boy. I like fried chicken and mashed potatoes on Sunday, shooting guns, and fishing. She likes science and lice.” He tosses back his glass, draining it. “I need to be drunk to dance.”

I grab another stem of champagne from a tray passing by. “Have another, then.”

He takes it, his forehead furrowed as he munches on a shrimp. “I’m a jock, and she’s smart. I live with my mama. My last girlfriend broke up with me and got married a month later. I didn’t even know she’d been seeing that cowboy and me!”

“Stop talking yourself out of it. Win the heart, win everything,” I tell him.

Midbite of his next shrimp, he shoots me a surprised look. “That’s only for football, Coach.”

“Is it?”

Before he can reply, Melinda’s father juts in, nodding at me and Melinda. “You two are young and spry. Get out there and dance.”

“Yes,” Melinda coos and leans in, her perfume heavy and thick.

“Go on; enjoy the party,” her dad insists as he slaps me on the back. “Does that leg injury keep you from dancing?”

“No.”

His buddies smile at me, nodding.

I exhale noisily. To refuse now would be rude to the Texans. And Nova’s avoiding me, so . . .

“All right.” I set down my plate, then lead her out to the floor, a few feet away from Nova and Sonia.

Nova looks at me, then does a spin in her dress, the fabric billowing around her long tanned legs. She grabs Sonia’s hand, and they move to the other side of the floor.

My gut churns as my eyes follow her. Oh, she sat next to me in the lounge this week, pretending, but there was a difference. My chest panged for her unreserved smiles, the way she’d brushed her lips over my scars.

“Electric Boogie,” by Marcia Griffiths, blares from the speakers, and several people rush out to do the Electric Slide. My jaw clenches when I see Andrew joining Nova for the line dance.

I tear my gaze off her. Once I leave Blue Belle, I want to do it with a clear heart, and that means no serious relationships.

Another girl joins us on the floor, sliding in next to Melinda, then another, then another, until I’m encircled by young women. Another song comes on. I should leave and go back to the table, but I also want to see what Nova is doing. In other words, I’m losing my mind.

The guitar-focused song “Say You Won’t Let Go” hits the speakers, and I jerk to a stop, remembering the Pythons party.