Page 3 of 4th and Goal
“And now?”
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, hissing, “She’s clearly involved with someone.”
“Not for long.” My head whips up at that assertion, my heart galloping in my chest. “Brody, you are so fucking smart…and yet, so damn stupid.”
“Listen here—”
“Shut it, grandpa. That woman lit the fuck up when she saw you. That isn’t just two friends or coworkers reconnecting after a couple weeks apart.”
“She’s never said anything, and she’s been dating—”
“Have you ever said anything to her? Given her any indication that you want more than friendship with her? I can see from the slump of your shoulders, that you haven’t.” She isn’t put off by my scowl, I don’t appreciate being called out. “You want her?” I nod curtly. “Then go get her.”
“She’s dating someone else, Zoey.”
Zoey picks her menu back up and starts reading it over again, waving off my comment with her free hand. “People are good at hiding what they don’t want you to see, but tonight, she truly saw him for the first time. There’s a crack in his armor. It’s just a matter of time before the rest of it falls apart.”
“I’ve always thought…” I trail off but she meets my eyes encouragingly. “There’s something not right about him. I thought it was because of my feelings for her, but now…”
“That man is the Wish.com version of Christian Bale’sAmerican Psycho.”
“Merica’s Maniac,” I say in a deep, southern accent and we both crack up. When we settle back down, our waiter approaches,we order our drinks and main courses, then relax in our seats. “What do I do now?”
Zoey shrugs with a sad smile. “You wait.”
“Fuck.”
“She needs to come to her own conclusions about him, and when she does, you’ll be there for her. Then, when the time is right, you sweep her off her feet.” I don’t like it, but I know she’s right. Zoey might be years younger than me, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders. “In the meantime, you’re gonna feed me, roll me back to your house, and tuck me in that big bed while you sleep on the couch.”
“I did NOT agree to give up my bed when I said you could stay. You’re more than a foot shorter than me!”
Zoey grins maliciously, reminding me so much of my mom and her dad when they get started. “I know.”
“If I’m rolling you home, I’m rolling you right into the garage.”
“You might have played football in your college days, but I don’t imagine you’re as fast as you used to be. These years in security have made you soft.” She leans across the table, and I can’t help but laugh at her determined expression. “I’m younger, smaller, and wilier.”
“Why are you so mean to me? I’m heartbroken, watching the love of my life date another man, and you’re trying to steal the only place I can find any comfort. 1,000 thread count emotional support sheets.”
She frowns at me with a shake of her head. “They can continue to comfort you…on the couch.”
Lilly 3.
I take a deep breath as the elevator doors open on the admin level of the athletic complex. It’s a Monday morning, bright and early. The campus is buzzing with new energy on the first day of classes. Our first football game is this Saturday. We’ll probably lose, but that’s expected when playing last year’s champions. No matter, we’ll bounce back, we always do. We have an exceptional team of players this year, and despite Coach Heacock being a continued thorn in everyone’s side, Assistant Coach Brandon Beiler and the rest of the staff have been working hard during training camp. My fingers itch with the urge to plot and plan some more for our ad campaign.
After my disastrous date with Conner, I spent the rest of the weekend working from home. I did soak in the tub for a while last night after forcing myself to put my laptop and phone away. I haven’t heard from Conner, and I can’t muster up any sadness about it. I did not like his behavior and while I can chalk it up to an off night, something about it all left me unsettled.
I did speak to Jenna Nemac, the cheer coach, for a bit and we hashed out an exciting new photospread featuring Daya Moul. We’re waiting to see her and Elijah Addelsbach in action at this weekend’s game, then finalize the shot list for another student I’m tapping to help bring Daya’s magic to the masses. Edith Shingleton is on the school paper as a photojournalist and isthis season’s photographer for the football team. Her work is incredible, and I can’t wait to see her take on Daya and Addy.
One of my favorite parts about my job is showcasing our students’ talents. Like a mama hen, I just want to shout from rooftops how amazing these men and women are. It is just one of the many reasons why I was promoted so quickly, aside from the previous Director of Public Relations for the entire university being centuries behind and almost as bad as Heacock. My boss, Adam Dion, has been my mentor since my sophomore year. My respect, esteem, and genuine love for the man has only grown over the intervening years. He fought hard to kick that dinosaur to the curb and bring the PR departments into the 21st century. He supported my desire to elevate our current student body, and highlight the good we do here that starts at the freshman level. For me, it isn’t about scorecards at the end of the day, it’s about the people. Every game, no matter the sport, has personalized slides for each player, touting their accomplishments on and off their respective playing fields.
I turn on the light in my office, set my bags on my desk and inhale once more. Smells like possibilities!
And something distinctly masculine—
“Good morning, Miss Geddes!” I nearly choke on my exhale as Brody fills my doorway, looking like a scrumptious…coworker. Dammit, woman. It was easier when he was on vacation, even though I missed him greatly. Since the moment I smiled up at him awkwardly on the first day of my internship, I’ve been smitten with Brody Zeigler. He’s older, mature, compassionate yet tough, handsome, and a big burly teddy bear lumberjack that I want to climb like a tree and suck the honey—
“HI!” Good Lord, we both wince at the volume of my voice. That metaphor was completely inappropriate and didn’t make anysense by the end of it. “Hello, Brody. How are you this morning?” I sigh, drop my head back and close my eyes. That was worse. Brody chuckles good-naturedly, walking further into my office. I plop down in my chair, open my eyes and smile at him from across my desk. He shifts in one of the guest chairs I have, it creaks from his size. He’s not fat, he’s just big. 6’4” of muscle but not ripped abs and defined arms. I don’t know what it is about his body that sets me off, but I have burned through a few personal pleasure devices in my daydreaming about his weight pressing me into the mattress. He’s solid. Played football back in the day, and was quite good, but never went pro.
