The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel(64)

I dressed in a simple black dress. It was a summer dress and the air outside had the chill of late fall, but a sweater was going to have to make do since I didn’t have money for shopping. Brody knocked on my door right on time. I had told him I would meet him downstairs, explained that parking was difficult to find. But the reality was, I hadn’t wanted him to see where I was living.

“You didn’t have to come up.”

I hadn’t put my heels on yet, so he was almost a foot taller than me. I saw him look over my head and scan my apartment. I knew what he was doing, and I certainly couldn’t blame him.

I opened the door wide and stepped aside. “No drugs. I’m clean.”

“I wasn’t . . . ”

I arched my eyebrow as if to say yes you were, and he confessed with a grin. “All right, maybe I was.”

He came inside.

“Let me give you a tour.” I twirled a circle with my arms extended. You could tour my entire studio apartment, except the bathroom, in one pivot. “Tour over. So how do you like it?”

“I like it. It’s . . . warm.”

“It’s not really. You better keep your jacket on.”

“It’s yours, right?”

“You’re really taking this find one good thing to heart, aren’t you?” I teased.

“I am.”

“Just give me one minute, I’m searching for my black heels.” My apartment was small, but the ceilings were high. Typical for Manhattan. There was little surface space left, so they built up.

One wall in the living room had built-in storage that started at about seven feet. I hopped up on the small ratty love seat that served as my living room furniture and stood on the back, balancing as I opened different compartments.

“What are you doing? You’re going to fall.” Brody walked over and reached up to my waist, steadying me as I searched through the storage cupboards. He moved with me, making sure I didn’t fall as I walked the length of the couch top, inspecting and closing different doors. When I reached the last one, I found the shoes shoved into the top corner and had to stand on my tippy toes to reach them.

“Got ’em,” I waved the shoes in the air like I’d just won a prize.

Brody lowered me back to the ground as if he were lifting a carton of empty milk. When he took his hands away, I longed for them. God, I miss his touch.

Turning to face him, it was easy to slip back into a comfortable place. I wrapped my hand around his bicep and squeezed. “Thanks for the lift. Big muscles. Have you been working out?”

He chuckled. “Get your shoes on, wiseass.”

That one unexpected moment, something so completely insignificant as Brody helping me reach my shoes and then joking around, made me feel more like my old self than I had in years.

“Bring an overnight bag. I want you to stay at the hotel again tonight, and tomorrow night, too.”

“I’m fine here, Brody. I appreciate it, though.”

“Can you just do it for me?”

The man had no idea what I would be willing to do for him. I nodded and threw the clothes I’d picked out for the service in an overnight bag.

On the way out, I heard voices coming from my neighbor’s apartment. Lena and Abby’s apartment. “Can you just give me a minute?”

I listened before knocking. Brody stood behind me.

The familiar sound of rusted locks clanked and then Abby opened the door. Her face lit up, and she ran to hug my legs, catching me by surprise. “Can we go to the park again?”

I smiled at the little ball of energy. “Not today. I’m going somewhere with my friend. This is Brody.”

She looked at Brody, found zero that interested her, and returned her attention to me. “When you’re done?”

“I’m actually going to be busy for a few days.” I looked into her apartment. “Is your mom here?”

“No. Grandma brought me to get more clothes.”

With that, Sophie appeared. “Didn’t I tell you not to open the door?” she scolded

“It was only Willow.”

Sophie put her hands on her hips. “And how did you know it was Willow? Did you ask who it was, Abby?”

Abby looked at me, then back to her grandmother. “No.” She sulked. “I forgot again.”

Her grandmother tried to hide a smile. “We’ll work on it.” She turned her attention to me. “Hi, Willow. Don’t you look pretty.”

“Thank you. I heard voices and wanted to see if everything was okay.”

Her eyes pointed to her granddaughter. “Everything is good. Abby is probably going to stay with me for a while.” I read between the lines. She was probably going to stay with her because she had no idea where the hell her daughter had disappeared to. The situation brought me back twenty years. Thankfully, Abby had Sophie like I’d had Marlene.

“Well, aren’t you lucky, Abby? I used to spend a lot of time with my grandmother, too. Her house was one of my favorite places in the world to go when I was your age.”

Sophie smiled. “We’re going to have a great time, aren’t we, Abby?”

Abby and I were lucky. I shuddered to think of what life was like for the girls who didn’t have a Sophie or a Marlene. “We have to get going. But you have my number. If there is anything I can do to help—”