The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel - Vi Keeland Page 0,90
bottle, following her with my eyes. She was wearing a black dress, a fitted red blazer, and had on high-heeled black leather boots that came up to meet the hem of her dress. Sexy as all fuck, while showing barely any skin.
Suddenly she stopped walking and looked up, scanning the arena as if searching for something. When her eyes found mine, even across half a stadium, it was all the sign I needed. This shit was not over. And I was going to find out once and for all why she was pretending it was.
Chapter 41
Delilah
I’d thought about calling Brody dozens of times over the last week. Even called up his contact on my phone on more than one occasion, but each time I only ended up staring at his name. What would I say? There wasn’t much that I remembered clearly from that last night in the hotel room, but the way he looked when I told him I didn’t love him back was burned into my memory. It was the one thing I didn’t want to remember, and yet the only thing that kept haunting me.
You know that feeling you get when someone is watching you? Well, multiply the intensity of that times a thousand, and that’s what made me look up. I felt it in my bones, in the acceleration of my heartbeat, in the sheen of sweat that broke out on my skin. The question was definitely not Is Brody looking at me? The only question was Where is he watching from? It didn’t take me long to find out, and I couldn’t look away, even when I should have. When he turned away without looking back again, it was like pouring salt on an open wound that refused to heal.
Staring up at an empty luxury box, I paid no attention as I walked. The mass of people swarmed in all different directions, and I smacked straight into the back of another reporter. It had to be Angie Snow of all people.
“Delilah Maddox.” Her smile was sugary sweet, but the intonation in her tone was false.
“Angie. How are you?” There were very few women in the world of men’s professional sports. It wasn’t like we had a club or anything, yet we all knew each other’s names and faces. I’d met Angie at an event a few years back. We were both covering college games still.
“I’m good. A little disappointed, though.”
“Disappointed?”
“Easton. You’re a lucky girl. I thought you were done with him, and he was back on the market. I didn’t realize you were still together.”
I’d had my nails done that morning. The thought of getting them shaved into sharp points next time suddenly popped into my head. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Oh. Good to know.” She smiled, and I folded my fingers into my hand, digging my nails into my skin. “Well. Good luck today.” The blonde bombshell flipped her hair and turned to walk away.
“Wait. Angie. What made you think we were still together?”
“Well, usually when a cowboy shows me his horse, he lets me take a ride on it.”
I cringed. “And Brody didn’t?”
“Wrapped the towel back around his waist after he intentionally let it fall. And after my interview, when I suggested he give me a private viewing of what was under the towel again—alone at my place that night—he blew me off.”
I breathed a little. “Oh. I’m sure that doesn’t happen often.”
One of her perfectly plucked and dyed eyebrows arched. “Often? It never happens.”
I felt Brody come up behind me before I heard his voice. Angie’s eyes rose above my head as he took my elbow into his hand. “Excuse us a minute, Andy, would you?”
“It’s Angie.”
The next thing I knew, I was being steered out of the arena and into the hall. Brody kept moving, clutching me tightly to his side as if I might run if given the opportunity. When we got to the entrance to the men’s locker room, it was being guarded by Henry Inez.
“Hi.” It came out just as nervous as the first time we’d met, maybe more so.
He nodded. “Dam. Mr. Easton.”
Brody scrunched up his brow. “I need to use the locker room for a few minutes.”
“Not supposed to let anyone in. Even players.”
I sensed Brody’s anxiety. “We won’t be but a few minutes. It’s just impossible to escape all the reporters. They can be pretty annoying,” I joked.
Henry stepped aside, shaking his head. “A few minutes. That’s it. We rotate when the interviews start inside.”