The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel - Vi Keeland Page 0,28
a heartbeat, his lips were on mine. His arms wrapped possessively around me, pulling me snugly against him. My knees went weak. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I would have sworn there was a mass of butterflies flapping their wings in the pit of my stomach. With a groan that echoed through our mouths and vibrated down my entire body, he licked my lips and nudged my mouth open. His tongue aggressively pursued mine and then took everything I gave. The desperation and intensity of the kiss was like nothing I’d ever felt before. My hands dug into his hair as he grabbed a handful of mine and tugged my head back further to where he wanted me. I whimpered, feeling desire flow from him and wrap around me. I moaned when I felt his hard-on pushing up against my stomach.
Holy shit.
We stayed like that for a long time. Grabbing and groping. Pulling and needing. When he finally released my mouth, he sucked on my bottom lip and released a hungry groan. “Overnight bag. Bring a bag Wednesday. Because there’s no way I’m letting you go again.”
Chapter 11
Brody
“You know, when I was a kid they had real football players. They wore leather helmets and didn’t have bi-weeks. What kind of a sissy athlete needs a week off in the middle of the season?”
“When you were a kid, they kept score by chiseling X marks into stone.” I tossed a jersey to Grouper. Next week was a designated throwback week, when the team wore replica uniforms from years back. I’d ordered an extra for Grouper III. “Tell Guppy I signed it with a washable marker this time. Don’t want his mother getting another smelly-boy call from the school.”
Grouper held it up and sighed nostalgically. “I remember this uniform. This was from the non-pussy-player period.”
“Bite me, old man.”
Marlene was sitting on the edge of her bed, a floral swim cap on her head. She was scribbling some notes on her notepad while the closing credits of The Price Is Right rolled on the TV screen behind her. Guess I’m late today.
“Going swimming, Marlene?” I leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She looked up at me blankly. “Are you the bus driver?”
“No. I’m Brody. Remember?”
She still looked confused.
“I used to live next door.”
Recognition registered. “Willow’s Brody.” She looked around me. “Is she with you today?”
“Not today, Marlene.”
“She didn’t want to come?”
I hated when she asked me these questions. Sometimes it was easier when she didn’t remember who I was. “She’s working on an art project up at my cabin. You know how she can get when she’s working.”
That seemed to pacify her. So I changed the subject to one of her favorites. “How did you do today on your show?”
She looked down at her notepad. “I would have won the whole shebang. The woman who was in the finale, Kathryn, her name was, only had one oar in the water.”
“They can’t all be like you. Or it wouldn’t be much of a game, would it?”
“That Barker’s microphone is too skinny. I don’t know what he’s trying to prove.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. I’m not sure on that one either.”
Marlene took the remote off her nightstand and flicked the TV off.
“What time is swimming? I didn’t realize they changed the schedule.”
“Eleven.”
I looked down at my watch. It was five after twelve.
Marlene and I shot the shit for a while, and eventually Shannon walked in, carrying a small clear plastic shot glass containing a few pills. She handed them to Marlene with a cup of water.
“Are they running late for swimming?” I asked.
“Nope. Swimming isn’t until Wednesday at two.”
I glanced sideways at Marlene’s swim cap, then back to Shannon.
She shrugged. “She got upset when I tried to take it off of her this morning. I told her swimming wasn’t until tomorrow. She told me I had shit for brains. Right, Marlene?”
Marlene nodded and handed her back the empty pill cup. She spoke as if she were verifying the time. “That’s right. Shit for brains, that one.”
Shannon gave me a thumbs-up and a wink as she left the room.
An hour later, Marlene let me help her remove the rubber swim cap. The damn thing was so tight, it left a red indent across her forehead where the edge cut off her circulation.
“I’m going to get going. Late practice this afternoon.”
She nodded. “You kiss that granddaughter of mine and tell her not to work too hard.”
“I will.”
Chapter 12
Delilah
After I’d returned from a two-hour session in the editing