Page 59 of For the Boys
Brent shoved his hand away, laughing. “Get away from me, you asshole.”
Chase made a disgusted sound and walked away, making a beeline for Anna and the group of women across the room.
Mitch smiled at Brent. “For what it’s worth,” he said, holding his glass out for a toast, “I really like Berkley. I think she’s perfect for you, and I hope it all works out.”
Brent returned the smile and tapped his glass against Mitch’s. “Thanks, man. Me too.”
After that conversation with Mitch and Chase, Brent desperately needed to hear Berkley’s voice. He exited the ballroom and found himself standing in a quiet hallway near the bathrooms, where he pulled his phone out and called Berkley.
She picked up after two rings. “I haven’t even left yet and you’re already calling me?”
Brent smiled, instantly relaxing. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
She giggled. “I miss you too. Packing sucks. I could think of several things I would rather be doing.”
“Oh really? Like what exactly?” Brent asked, his heart rate kicking up in anticipation as he paced the hallway outside the ballroom.
“Like a really hot makeout session with this guy I’m seeing.” A zipper being pulled echoed through the phone, and then she said. “Wait, aren’t you at your gala?”
Brent groaned. “Yes, and I’m miserable.”
“Why?” she asked, sounding incredulous. “It always sounded so fun to me, getting to rub elbows with the Warriors.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind rubbing elbows with you,” he said. “As it stands, if my teammates weren’t here, I’d be bored to death.”
Berkley chuckled. “I wish I was there. You know I love seeing you in a suit.”
“You see me in a suit all the time.” Brent walked down the hallway and opened the door to the men’s room, stepping in front of the mirror. He typically favored dark gray, but this evening he’d chosen a navy blue suit paired with a crisp white shirt and a deep red tie and pocket square. Warriors colors.
“Yeah, a game-day suit. I feel like your fancy-ass-season-ticket-holder-gala suit game is a lot stronger.”
“I’ll let you be the judge,” he said, pulling his phone away from his ear and tapping the button to connect to Berkley via FaceTime.
She answered almost immediately and sighed. “You are so lucky I’m not there right now.”
“Why is that?” Brent asked, looking at her face framed in his phone screen. Her blonde hair was swept up into a bun at the top of her head, her face free from makeup, an oversized Warriors tee hanging off her right shoulder. Imagining pressing his mouth to her exposed skin had him licking his lips.
“Well, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. I’d embarrass you with my brashness in front of all those people.”
Brent furrowed his brows. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you in return?”
Berkley’s lips twisted into a coy smirk. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“There’s always next year,” he said and winked at her.
“If you still want me around next year.”
Brent’s eyes widened at the sudden mood change. “Of course I will.”
“Are you sure?”
He stared at her beautiful face trapped in his phone screen, wishing she was here so he could prove how much he meant it when he said, “Absolutely.”
“Good,” she said quietly. “I want that too.”
His face split into a grin. “I miss you,” he said. “But hey, I better go before they send the cavalry after me, and I’ll never hear the end of it if one of the guys catches me in here talking to you instead of suffering out there with them.”
“I miss you too,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
