Sure Shot (Brooklyn #4)(45)

“Eric…” I try. Words fail me. Some boss I am.

He waves a hand like I shouldn’t bother. “I get it. Cone of silence. Your employee of the month already spotted you guys in a taxi together after Nate and Becca’s party. You’re not that stealthy. But Castro and Silas are inside wondering why you stormed out looking mad. So I promised I’d check on you.”

Eric knew? For some reason that makes my face redden even more. “Thank you. I, uh, don’t really date players.”

“Except one,” Tank says unhelpfully. Then he laughs.

“One mistake in nine years,” I correct.

“At this point does it really still count as one?” he asks.

I just sigh.

“You kids figure it out,” Eric says, turning back toward the corner of the building.

“Bess,” Tank asks. “Will you let Eric represent me?”

Eric pauses to hear my answer.

“Yes.” I sigh. “Sure. It’s the right idea.” Because my way was never going to work.

Someday Tank is going to break my heart, and if Eric is his agent, I won’t have to sit across a conference room table and discuss contract clauses and pretend I’m not dying inside. He’ll be Eric’s problem instead. And I’ll still get a cut.

“Awesome!” Tank pumps his fist. “I’m your second client after Baby Bayer, right?”

“Depends who signs first—you or the kid from Saskatchewan.” Eric winks. “I’m gonna go finish my wine now, and also invent some reason why you two need to stand out here in a vacant lot.” He’s gone a second later.

Tank chuckles. “See? He doesn’t care that we were just trying to eat each other’s faces.”

“I noticed that.”

“Then why do you still sound grumpy?” Tank’s eyes are twinkling.

“It’s just a habit at this point.” I can hear my five-year plan weeping. Spending time with Tank means forcing myself not to think about the future.

He leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth. “We have fun, Bess. Let’s go home and have some more of it together. It doesn’t have to be a life-changing kind of thing.”

“Right,” I whisper, looking into his clear green eyes. That’s the whole problem. “I like your brand of fun.” But please don’t break my heart.

“My place or yours,” he whispers. “We’re going on a road trip tomorrow. I’m gonna need some quality time with you first.”

“Yours,” I say, still irritated at myself. My Tank moratorium lasted all of two days.

He takes my hand, threading our fingers. “Any reason we can’t go now? Anyone you need to say goodbye to?”

“No.” I shake my head. The press of his palm against mine makes me unreasonably happy.

“Let’s get ice cream on the pier. It’s on the way.”

I follow him toward the water, pretending for a little while that fairytales are real.





Nineteen





From: The Puckraker’s Blog





“Tankiewicz Finds the Net for Brooklyn”


Breaking his longest scoring drought—twelve games—Tankiewicz finally puts the biscuit in the basket for Brooklyn. With goals from Trevi as well as Drake, Brooklyn took the game over Buffalo, 3-1.

It’s progress. But Tankiewicz had better make a whole lot more of it if he expects to put down roots in Brooklyn.

And it won’t be long until the showdown in Dallas. Will old Sure Shot be ready in time?





Tank: Did you SEE that beautiful goal???

Bess: Yes baby. That’s why I sent you a text last night that said NICE GOAL BABY in shouty caps. Didn’t it come through?

Tank: It came through. But I just wanted to talk about it some more. Because did you SEE that beautiful goal? When Castro accidentally passed to nowhere but I got my stick on it anyway? And before you could say TANK IS A STUD, I put it in?

Bess: Gorgeous goal, hot stuff! I may have spilled my beer I was so excited.

Tank: Where did you spill it?

Bess: All over my naked breasts.

Tank: Really?

Bess: No. But the purpose of this conversation is stroking your ego, right? So I thought I’d just roll with it.

Tank: LOL! I’ll take it.

Bess: :)

Tank: You were right, by the way. After the game, Castro told me I had to get the Brooklyn Bridge tattooed across my ass.

Bess: Well that’s a good sign. If they’re pranking you it means they like you now.

Tank: I got a goal. They like that at least.

Bess: What did you tell Castro about the tattoo?

Tank: I said, sure, buddy!

Tank: And, get this, I told him that if we connect on ten goals this season—in either direction—not only will I put the bridge on one ass cheek, I’ll put his face on the other.

Bess: OMG. What did he say to that?

Tank: “Let’s not get carried away.” Honestly he looked terrified, which was the point. I told him I was just crazy enough to do it. And then I wondered aloud what the blogs would write about that.

Bess: You are an evil man.

Tank: Never bullshit a bullshitter. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Specifically, I need to know if you’re naked right now. Please say yes.