Page 12 of Broken Play
How well he could dance.
How his hands felt on my skin.
And most of all, how his kiss infiltrated my broken heart and gave me life again at a time when I thought I would never let another man touch me.
SEVEN
GREYSON
"Is this fate? Is this why I was traded?" I ask Birdie and J.D. "Do you think she'll take the job?"
"You better hope not because she'll be off-limits." My brother hesitates and says, "It's been two days since the meeting, and Mr. Anders said he would call."
Birdie claps her hands. "I can't believe she just showed up. She didn't know who you were in Denver, and you didn't know who she was. Crazy."
J.D. strokes her back. "Birdie, you had no idea who I was, either."
"Yeah, but you played in Vegas. I knew you all were athletes." She links her arms around my brother's neck, and they kiss.
I clear my throat. "Okay, this is about me."
"Oh my God, you're already a pain in my ass," J.D. says as his phone rings, and he reluctantly tears himself away from his wife.
Hearing only one side of the conversation, I mentally try to fill in the blanks.
"Yes, sir."
"I'll do my best."
"What time?"
"I'll let him know. Thanks." He taps his finger on his phone, a sure sign his brain is working overtime.
Trying to be casual, I ask, "Was that Mr. Anders?"
My brother scratches the back of his neck and blows out a harsh breath that sounds like he's been holding it all day. "Sutton accepted the job and wants us in her office tomorrow. I'm telling you, G, you need to keep this professional. No flirting. No innuendos. I mean it."
I grin, rolling my eyes as I stand and lean against the enormous stainless-steel fridge. "Please, when have I ever been anything but professional?" I blow a raspberry for effect. "Come on, have I ever done anything against the rules?"
J.D. stares at me with an arched brow, the corner of his mouth twitching like a highlight reel is playing in his head. Since no one is coming to my defense, I do it myself, fighting the smile tugging at my lips.
"Okay, so maybe I borrowed Dad's truck to sneak into the party that you wouldn't take me to in high school. And sure, I snuck a stray dog into my dorm in college, but he needed a home. He didn't have tags. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing."
My brother crosses his arms, biceps bulging out of the T-shirt he's wearing. "Maybe I would have. But what about the time you hotwired the golf cart so you could go get milkshakes with Stacey after practice? You were sixteen."
Is he forgetting why I was acting out?
"Oh, and remember when you had the O-line for Denverwear their uniforms to the charity gala? It's a wonder they didn't trade you then."
Holding my hands up in mock surrender, I admit, "All right, I've been creative when necessary."
"Yeah, when you want something."
"It was all harmless fun. Just relax. What's the worst that could happen?"
"We both lose our jobs. I don't want to be fired because of your sorry ass, G. Plus, you have four or five years left."
"Bro, I'm playing forever. This game is all I've got."
