Page 101 of For the Boys
“Why didn’t you tell me? And what the fuck does that have to do with Anna?”
Brent sighed and sat on the bed. “Anna is the woman I hired to be the face of the women’s line. Her soccer team is getting a lot of really great press right now, and she had the right look. Unfortunately, she’s in breach of contract, and I’m trying to terminate it without dragging both of us through a very public and probably very messy legal battle. Those photos are supposed to be proof that she’s violating her morals clause.” As embarrassed as he was, he quickly told her about Anna cornering him in the bathroom the night of the Warriors Winter Gala.
“Holy shit,” Berkley said quietly. “You’re represented by Grant, Stone, and Lippett.”
It wasn’t a question, and Brent’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “How do you know that?”
Berkley let out a hard, incredulous laugh. “Davis Lippett is my contract drafting professor. We spent the first two weeks of this semester picking apart that contract, looking for the fastest and easiest way to get you out of it.”
“Holy shit,” Brent breathed. “Small world.”
Berkley snorted, her body seeming to relax a bit. “It certainly is.”
Brent stood and took a tentative step toward her. When she didn’t move, he took that as an invitation to close the distance between them. But she hugged herself tighter, so he didn’t dare touch her.
“I’m not cheating on you,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t excuse you going through my phone.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me about FLEX and all of this drama to begin with?” she asked, ignoring his admonishment.
“I honestly don’t know. No, that’s a lie. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it was going to succeed, and I didn’t want you to see me as a failure.” He hung his head.
Brent had led a rather charmed life up to that point, especially where his career was concerned. He hadn’t won a national championship in college, but he had won back-to-back conference titles his junior and senior years, and he’d made it to the Frozen Four his senior season before being knocked out by Boston College in the semifinals. He’d also been named captain before the start of his junior season and team MVP as a senior. He had been the Warriors’ leading scorer his first full season with the team, was a three-time all star, current season not included, and had made it to the playoffs every year he’d been in the pros.
He was more than confident in his skills as a hockey player.
But as a businessman? His success was yet to be determined.
Berkley placed a finger under his chin, lifting his head to meet her gaze.
“I will never think of you as a failure,” she said.
“Really?”
She nodded. “You’re Brent Jean. You’re obviously an insanely talented hockey player, but more than that, you’re an incredible human being. The fact that you’re even worried FLEX won’t be a success just proves to me that it will. You won’t and can’t accept anything less.” Sighing, she added, “Which brings me to why I went through your phone. You’re, well…you.And somehow you want to be with me? When you could literally have anyone you want? I’m sorry. I got a little in my head about it.”
“Just please don’t do it again,” he said. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Relaxing and opening her arms, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he gave in, not wanting to fight anymore. What he wanted to do was sink back into her warm body.
A kiss that began as sweet and reassuring quickly turned hot and demanding. Brent’s towel dropped to the floor as he lifted Berkley off her feet and carried her to the bed.
Berkley giggled when he dropped her and crawled on top of her. “What was the point of taking a shower,” she said, arching her neck back to allow him access, “if you were just going to get dirty again?”
“I have no idea,” Brent said, leaning into her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair. When her nails scraped against his scalp, his eyes rolled back in his head.
God, he loved when she did that.
He crawled off her to stand, holding his hand out for her. “But how about you join me this time?”
Berkley’s eyes flashed. “I love shower sex.”
“Duly noted,” Brent said, pulling her to her feet. “But who said anything about sex?”
Berkley reached for his discarded towel on the floor, snapping it in his direction.
“Tease,” she said, glowering as he danced out of the way. She chased him into the living room and around the kitchen.
“Better idea,” he said, wrapping her in his arms when she caught up to him. All of her warm, smooth skin flush against his had his dick growing harder by the second. “Let’s skinny dip.”
