Page 131 of For the Boys
“Well, not to be insensitive here, Berk,” he said, “but I am a professional athlete. It comes with the territory.”
“Trust me, I am well aware of that fact.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is tonight could’ve been amazing. And then you had to go and bid on some stupid vacation you don’t even need, announcing to the entire room that you were there. It would’ve been fine if you had just laid low.” They had reached Berkley’s building. Brent parked. They sat in silence, listening to the engine tick as it cooled.
“So you’re mad at me because I bid on a vacation in an auction that was raising money to help women who have been abused?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying, Berkley?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she got out of the truck and made her way inside. Brent wordlessly followed her, standing several feet away in the confines of the elevator. The ride was a quiet, almost awkward affair. They stepped inside and, after they shucked their shoes and coats, she turned to him.
“I’m not mad at you,” she finally said. “Tonight was just supposed to be my thing. You know how important becoming a lawyer is to me. Tonight was meant for networking and celebrating my accomplishments. Instead, it felt like it became the Brent Jean Show.”
Just once, she wanted something to be about her instead of her famous boyfriend. Why was that so hard for him to understand?
“To be fair, you invited me.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t expect the evening to go the way it did.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” Brent said, walking to her and cupping her face in his hands. “I had no idea you felt that way. Why didn’t you just say something?”
“What could you do? You’re Brent Jean. You are who you are, and there’s no changing that. I just get a little exhausted by the constant intrusions.”
Brent wrapped his arms around her and pressed his hands to her bare back, rubbing up and down, soothing her. She sighed and rested her head on his chest.
“I really am sorry about tonight,” he said. “If I had known this would happen, I never would’ve bid on anything.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know, and it’s not your fault you’re stupid hot and ridiculously talented.”
Brent’s laugh rumbled against her cheek. “On the plus side, we have a trip to Aspen to look forward to next winter.”
Berkley stepped back and smacked him on the chest. “Not the point, Brent.”
He stepped toward her and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and turning her to press her back against the wall. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Berkley looked up at him, a mischievous grin spreading slowly across her face. “I distinctly remember a conversation earlier that involved this dress and your mouth.”
It was an abrupt change of tack, but sex had become a level playing field for them. They were always on the same page in bed, neither with the upper hand. Neither able to stay mad for long once skin met skin.
Brent began lowering himself to his knees in front of her. “Your wish is my command.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Berkley
Despite their fabulous makeup sex after the Treasure of Detroit Ball, Berkley still felt a little off with Brent. She didn’t dare tell him that, but Berkley had begun to question some things.
She was only a few short weeks away from the culmination of her academic career. Walking across the stage to receive her degree was going to be one of the best moments of her life. Some days she questioned whether this was the time to be getting serious with someone, especially someone like Brent, now that she was on the cusp of finally starting her career, of becoming who she was meant to be. He lived his life in the public eye. That wasn’t the kind of life Berkley had ever imagined for herself. All she wanted to do was help people, no public notoriety or recognition necessary, and she often felt that Brent’s lifestyle was at odds with that.
But she loved him. She couldn’t walk away from him, not now. Possibly not ever. She had to trust in their feelings for each other and believe that, together, they would find a way to make everything okay.
Or maybe you’re having these thoughts because you’re terrified of meeting the rest of his family, she thought.
She and Lexie were at her apartment getting ready for the Warriors’ opening playoff game that evening. She came out of her bedroom in the jersey Brent had given her for Valentine’s Day, wearing his number on a chain around her neck. The fact that the jersey itself hung to her knees didn’t bother Berkley; she felt comfortable in it, safe, like she was wrapped in Brent’s arms.
