Page 54 of Blitzing Emily

“Of course, I am.” He moved closer. “Would you like me to?”

Someone obviously turned up the heat in the shop. They were lost in their own world.

Emily fed him a forkful of cake. A bit of frosting clung to the corner of his mouth. She wiped it off with her fingertip. He caught her hand in his and licked her finger. His eyes met hers.

“Let’s not waste it.”

She forgot to breathe.

“Excuse me,” Emily heard an excited female voice say. “Aren’t you Brandon McKenna?”

Two young women in their twenties stood beside their table. Both were focused on Brandon. They didn’t acknowledge her.

“I am,” Brandon said.

“Oh, my God,” the young woman said. Her pale blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail. She wore a skin-tight t-shirt and low-slung jeans. “I am such a Sharks fan. It’s so exciting to meet you!” She was bouncing on the balls of her feet. She thrust out her hand to him and said breathlessly, “I’m Kris. Could I have your autograph?” She began rooting through her purse for a pen.

“Sure.” He smiled. “By the way, this is Emily, my fiancée.”

The friend rolled her eyes. Kris handed Brandon a ballpoint pen. To Emily’s amazement, she pulled up her t-shirt, leaned over, and grinned.

“Right here.”

She wanted him to sign her breast, in a crowded coffee shop, in front of Emily.

Brandon averted his eyes from Kris’s perky assets. “I’m happy to sign a piece of paper for you, but I won’t sign that.” He gave her a look Emily hadn’t seen anywhere but in the game film they watched, quickly scribbled his signature on an unused napkin on the table, and said, “It was—nice—to meet you. Thanks for your support.”

Kris wasn’t getting the hint. She whipped out her cell phone.

“Let’s pose for a picture,” she said.

She tried to install herself on his lap while pushing her cell phone into her friend’s outstretched hand. He managed to shove his chair back before she succeeded. She grabbed the side of the table so she wouldn’t fall.

“Sugar, it’s time for us to leave.” He picked up their coffee cups and moved around the two women to take her arm.

“I’ll get more cake to go if you’d like,” he said in a low voice.

“You’re an asshole,” Kris hissed. “You—you screwed my friend, but you won’t let me sit on your lap?”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled her away. “Keep moving,” he said.

She knew from the blank expression in Brandon’s eyes (and the flush that was slowly spreading up his neck) that he was much angrier than he appeared on the surface. He stopped at the counter for a moment, said something to the barista, and swept Emily out the front door.

“Let’s walk.” He handed Emily’s cup to her, slid an arm around her waist, and they hurried across the street to Marina Park. “We’ll go back for cake later.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Do that young woman’s parents know she’s—Okay. I realize I’m a bit old-fashioned, but ...” Emily’s voice trailed off. He was walking so fast Emily ran to keep up with him. She reached out for the waistband of his jeans and panted, “Wait a second.”

He tugged her over to a bench. They sat in silence for a while, watching children run and play along the sandy beach.

“So, I hate to even bring it up,” she said.

“I wasn’t involved with her.” His voice was tense. “I prefer women, not little girls.” He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “People approach me. Most of the time, they’re nice. They want an autograph or they want to talk a little. That stuff?” His eyes hardened again. “That hasn’t been happening as much lately, but I’ll never get used to it.” He thought for a moment. “Do you get people coming up to you?”

“It’s usually an arranged thing after a performance or at a benefit. I haven’t had anyone who’s wanted me to autograph their breast, though.”

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