The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel(6)

I tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip and held me in place. I craned my neck. “Let go of me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s right. No.”

“I can scream at the top of my lungs.”

“I’d like to hear you scream.” His tone made it clear he meant he wanted me underneath him while I was doing the screaming.

“You’re an *. You know that?”

“I do. You asked me that yesterday. For a reporter, you should really try changing up your questions more frequently.”

My eyes bulged.

Easton shifted his hand down to the small of my back before twirling us around the dance floor. Figures the prick can dance.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“You can’t be serious?”

He ignored my comment. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

“We just ate.”

“Dessert at my place, then?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you hit your head at the game yesterday?”

“On a diet, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s it. I don’t want to go to your place for dessert because I’m on a diet.”

“Well, that’s just a shame.” Easton smiled. He was actually pretty quick-witted and funny, but he was still an *. The song ended, and the band asked everyone to take a seat while the winners of the silent auction were announced.

“I’d say it was nice seeing you again, but I don’t lie.”

Easton grinned. He seemed to like my insults. But before I could walk away, he grabbed my hand. “Hey. Be careful with Langley. Met him a few times when he was a field reporter. Guy’s a jerk.”

“Isn’t that ironic coming from you?”

“I am who you see. That guy isn’t.”

For the rest of the night, I mostly enjoyed myself. Indie introduced me to a load of people I’d never met before, and my conversation with Michael headed from friendly to flirting. A few times, as Michael and I were sitting at the table talking, I looked up to find Easton’s eyes on me. The smile that had been on his face was gone, and he looked almost pissed. It made me lean into Michael even closer.

Outside, I waited at the valet stand for Indie’s car while she said goodbye to some people from corporate sales. Michael joined me just as his silver Porsche Spyder pulled up.

“Nice car.”

“Thanks. I’d love to give you a ride sometime . . . maybe on the way to dinner one night?”

“I’d like that. But my schedule is a little crazy the next few weeks.” Twenty-eight days left on my cleanse.

“When things calm down, then?” He handed me his cell, and as I was programming in my number, he leaned in. “You smell incredible. I’ve been meaning to tell you that all night.”

“Thank you. It’s Rose de Chloe. I just bought it and wasn’t sure if it was too floral.”

“It’s perfect.” Instead of taking his phone back from my hand, Michael wrapped his fingers around mine and pulled me in for a hug goodbye. When I looked up, Brody Easton was staring at us. He appeared more than a little angry. So I made Michael’s hug last extra-long.

***

The next week, the Steel was scheduled to play home again, so there was no midweek game traveling. But I was out of town covering the Basketball Hall of Fame inductions. I drove four hours back home late Saturday night to make sure I was at the stadium in time for kickoff the next morning. I watched the game from the sidelines, assisting the play-by-play field broadcaster. After the Steel won again, I headed to the locker room. I didn’t dilly-dally this time. Instead, I got right in line to enter when security opened the big blue door.

“What’s up, Dam?” Henry held out his hand for me to slap.

“Hi, Hi. I brought you something.” I reached into my bag and took out a signed print of Rochelle Teavers, the WNBA’s season-high shooter. “I heard some of the reporters say your daughter broke her ankle playing basketball. I covered the Hall of Fame induction this week, and Rochelle was there.” My eyes pointed to the glossy photo. “Hope I had her spell Larissa right.”

Henry patted his chest and pulled his glasses from the lapel of his uniform. “Well, look at that. This is going to make her old man cool for a change. Thank you very much, Delilah Dam.”

“No problem.”

I was one of the first few inside the locker room. Another reporter was already setting up to interview Easton, but I intended to get it over with as fast as I could. I walked over with Nick in tow. Brody was talking about his knee, but the minute he noticed me a smile spread across his face. Shit. He’s wearing a towel again. I was overly prepared for the interview and knew how I’d handle the cocky quarterback if he started to play games again. But that damn smile made me nervous.

When it was my turn, I stepped up with a no-bullshit attitude. “How are we going to play this today, Easton?”

“Did you think of me this week while you were in Boston?”

I lifted one brow. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

“Admit you thought of me, and I’ll make it easy for you today.”

“I’m ready for you and your exhibitionist display. You don’t have to go easy. Make it as hard as you can.” I motioned to Nick to start rolling.