Page 54 of For the Boys
“You were amazing!” she breathed. “I’m so proud of you.”
Brent grinned down at her, eyes bright. That one stubborn curl sprung onto his forehead, and she reached up to push it back. “I’m glad you came. I’m just sad I didn’t get my Gordie.”
“I’m not,” Berkley said, pulling away to glare up at him. “What were you thinking going after Madden like that?”
“I was thinking that he kept running Roberts over and I was sick of his shit!”
Berkley continued to glare.
Brent cupped her face in his hands, running a thumb over her lip in an attempt to loosen it from the pout it was in. “What happened to being proud of me?” he asked, dropping a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then the corner of her mouth. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his warm breath on her neck raising goosebumps on her arms. “And you look amazing in that jersey.”
Berkley sighed, toes curling. “Fine,” she conceded, wrapping her arms around his waist. “But next time, don’t be such a pest. I’d hate for someone to ruin that pretty face of yours.” She tapped him on the nose with her finger. “Can’t risk damaging those hands I hear are pretty impressive, either,” she added, feigning nonchalance.
His forehead creased in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Those girls that just left. I heard one of them talking about hooking up with you,” she said, stepping back from him and crossing her arms over her chest.
“What girls?” Brent asked, looking around the room.
“I don’t know who they were! One of them was tall and really skinny and blonde, and the other two were dark haired. The blonde one was talking about hooking up with you this summer and how she was pretty sure she was going home with you tonight.”
Brent’s eyes widened. “Roxy.”
“You hooked up with a girl named Roxy? Please tell me she’s not a stripper.”
“She’s not a stripper. At least, I’m pretty sure she’s not. I met her at the bar one night last season. We hooked up a few times, and she came to a few games. It was never anything serious. I don’t know why she was here tonight, because I never invited her.”
“She said you let her watch the game from here tonight.”
Brent took a tentative step toward her, reaching down to grab her hands when she didn’t back away. “Berkley. We went on a freaking date last night. A date. Do you think I’ve ever taken a girl likethaton a date before? No, I haven’t. I didn’t invite her here tonight. I haven’t seen her in months, or even talked to her, so I don’t know why she thought it was okay to show up. I wantyouhere. No one else. And I want you to be comfortable here. I know my past isn’t exactly pretty, and I wish I could guarantee this is the last time something like this is going to happen, but I can’t. I just need you to trust me when I say that part of my life is over. Can you trust me?”
Berkley stared down at their feet, thinking it over. To be fair, according to both Brent and the girl, they hadn’t seen each other since before he’d even officially met Berkley, the horrific night in August notwithstanding. He had been going out of his way lately to make time for her and work her into his life. Hadn’t she been telling herself what a good guy he was and how badly she wanted things with them to become more serious?
“I can trust you,” she said, looking up at him. At the very least, she could try. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. “I want you to talk to me when something is bothering you.”
She nodded, looking up at him. “As long as you promise to do the same.”
“Deal,” he said. He kissed her again, and gagging noises came from behind her. Brent broke away.
“Hi, Kimber,” he waved. “Amelia, Lexie. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Lexie said. “Waiting for you two cheeseballs to stop sucking face so we can start drinking.” Brent laughed and pulled away, grabbing Berkley’s hand and leading them out of the suite.
Berkley had quickly learned in her time spent around the Warriors that Mitch threw a loft party after every home game if he could get away with it. Win, loss, shootout—it was always the perfect time to drink. Plus, the Warriors preferred the loft to the bar or some other downtown spot because they didn’t have to worry about fans invading their personal space. They could relax and unwind in peace.
Berkley, Lexie, Kimber, and Amelia walked in the door together, Brent following close behind with Cole and Chase.
“Which one of you wants to be my beer-pong partner?” Kimber asked.
“I will!” Berkley said. “I haven’t played in way too long.”
Kimber grabbed her hand and led her across the room. Berkley turned to Brent and shrugged a shoulder in his direction. “Sorry,” she mouthed. He gave her a thumbs-up and led Amelia and Lexie to the bar.
As much as Berkley loved being around Brent, it was nice to interact with his teammates and spend some one-on-one time with Kimber. With everything going on between school and Kimber’s job, Berkley felt like they had hardly seen each other in months. Moving out of their shared townhouse had certainly exacerbated the situation, but she refused to feel guilty for that. They would just have to try harder to make time for each other, and this was a great first step.
Berkley didn’t know how long they played, but alcohol and adrenaline had warmed her considerably, so she had shed her jersey in favor of the tank top underneath. Pair after pair of Brent’s teammates came to the table, and Berkley and Kimber took down all of them.
