Page 8 of Spotlight
“Don’t let it go to your head, Hotshot.”
“Too late. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met just told me she was into me.”
She laughs. “That is not what I said.”
“No? I must have misunderstood.”
“Come on,” Everly breaks through my thoughts. “It shouldn’t take long.”
Everly wouldn’t tell me I needed to be downstairs immediately if it wasn’t urgent but every step away from my room makes me panic a little more.
I don’t even know my gorgeous mystery woman’s name. She was adamant about not sharing personal information even after we confessed intimate details I doubt either of us has told anyone else.
“This wine is better than sex.”
My brows rise. “It’s not that good.”
She makes a low sound deep in her throat and her blonde hair falls over one shoulder.
“You must not be having sex with the right people.”
“That’s probably true. I can’t remember the last time one managed to get me off.”
“You’re serious?” I ask when she doesn’t laugh it off.
She nods and takes another drink of her wine. Her blue eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Bright and sparkly like sapphire in the sunlight. My brothers would give me so much shit if I ever said that out loud, but I don’t care.
“Let’s go, Holland.” Everly power walks down the hallway. She jabs the elevator down button, and it opens immediately. “You look like hell. Did you spend all night drinking away your sorrows?”
“I—”
Everly shoos me into the elevator. “Less talking, more walking.”
I stumble inside. On a good day my agent is hard to keep up with, but right now it’s impossible. She thinks I’m hungover, or still drunk. But it isn’t alcohol clouding my mind.
My body is having a very visceral reaction to the thought of her not knowing good sex. As in, it would like to show her how good it can be.
“You’ve definitely been having sex with the wrong people.”
“I’m starting to think there isn’t a right person out there. At least for me.”
“I don’t know if I’m the right person or not, but I can guarantee you this, gorgeous. If you were mine, I’d make it my life’s mission to get you off well and often.”
As soon as the elevator doors close, Everly moves in front of me. She spritzes some sort of floral spray in my face with no warning.
Whatever the hell it is tastes awful and I grimace. “What the hell, Ev?”
“Colt Backer is here.”
My stomach dips. “What?”
“He called me this morning and asked to meet. That’s all I know.” Everly continues fussing over me, smoothing out wrinkles in my shirt and running her fingers through my hair.
After my tryout yesterday, the GM of the Renegades called personally to tell me they were going in a different direction. Would it have stung as much if it weren’t the fourth time in a month I’d heard the same thing from every team I’d met with? I don’t know, but I know that my heart trips over itself as I walk toward him, wondering why he’s here and what it could possibly mean.
Colt stands from a small table in the hotel restaurant when he sees us approaching.
“Nice to see you again,” he says. He’s a foot shorter than me, but still has an air about him that demands respect and admiration. He’s immaculately put together from the crisp, custom suit to his freshly polished shoes. He makes me feel like a slob, even after Everly’s pampering, but what do I care since he’s not signing me to his club anyway.
