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“Maybe you don’t hang around the right people.”
It took everything in me not to let my mouth drop open in surprise at Tommy’s response. Was he actually voicing that he thought I was interesting? Earlier today, it felt like that was all in my head. But I was sitting next to him on this couch in a bar full of women who were much more attractive than I was, and still he was choosing to give me all of his focus.
I thought about the photos of Tommy stumbling out of bars looking bleary-eyed and greasy like he had consumed way too much alcohol, and tried to reconcile that with the sober guy who was talking with me like I was the most important person in the room. The guy who didn’t know who he was when he left bars at three in the morning was the type of guy I’d never be caught dead with. I finally braved the idea of making eye contact with him again, only to see him staring directly at my lips. I cursed the way my mouth went instantly dry and the way my legs felt like they would give out beneath me if I tried to escape.
Luckily, I was saved by Jamil and Olivia coming back into the VIP section with their arms loaded down with beverages. Both of their personalities seemed like they could fill up the entire space from the way they laughed with each other, and that energy was a thankful distraction from Tommy’s intense stare. Jamil collapsed back into his seat and pulled Olivia down next to him as they continued their conversation. Lottie had finally gotten off her phone and was busy describing different routines some of the rookies should implement in their pregame warmups to help with their arm health.
Great. There go my lifelines in this club.
Whenever we went out, I relied on Olivia to introduce me to the other people she so easily befriended. She always made sure to insert me into the conversation to help me feel included because she knew that if I was left to my own devices, I would slink back to a dark corner of the room and avoid conversing with any humans the entire time. And on nights like tonight when Olivia decided it was her time, my inability to socialize was forgotten.
It felt like the walls of the club were closing in on me the second I realized that I was on my own. The dress I was wearing began to feel too tight, and the music started to feel like it was pressing on every part of my head. My eyes searched for an exit that didn’t include me shoving my way back through the dance floor, but I struck out.
“Need to leave?” I jumped when I realized that Tommy’s mouth was inches from my ear.
He must have shifted closer to me during my mental breakdown. His breath tickled the inside of my ear and sent shivers down my spine. A traitorous thought of his lips brushing against the skin behind my ear flashed in my mind. Goose bumps spread across my skin as I imagined what it would be like to be kissed by him. Judging by the way that Tommy did everything else in life, I was sure kissing him would be all-consuming. My skin burned hot enough to finally make me realize that I was dreaming in a room full of people with the main character of my dream sitting right next to me. I blinked a few times, trying to clear that image away before it became obvious that I was thinking about something I shouldn’t be.
“Uh . . .” I shifted between glancing at Tommy and back toward the club’s entrance, debating if I could fight my way through the horde of people on my own. Part of me knew that if he was offering to help me get out of here and I took it, I would then be that girl that left the bar with Tommy Mikals.
“Come on.” The next thing I knew, his hand was wrapped around mine and he was pulling me toward the dance floor. Olivia didn’t even bother to look in my direction as I tried desperately to grab her attention. She was too wrapped up in the conversation she was having with Jamil. Tommy put himself firmly in front of me as he carved a path through the sea of bodies. It was like watching Moses part the Red Sea. I was sure that no one could actually tell who he was, but the way he carried himself demanded that people move out of his way. Before I knew it, we had emerged from the mosh pit unscathed and out into the cool spring Chicago air.
“Thank you,” I told him as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call for an Uber. Olivia had driven me to the club, and there was no way I was getting on the L this late at night. A homeless man kept trying to touch my hair the last time I found myself on the train after midnight.
“Need a ride?” I glanced up to see Tommy still standing next to me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His shoulders were bunched up near his ears to help fight off the slight chill in the air. He had definitely dressed for the heat of the nightclub and not spring Chicago weather.
“You didn’t bring a coat?” I asked him, Uber forgotten, as I pulled on my own jacket.
“I never wear a coat when I go out.”
“You never wear a coat when you go out?” I repeated, my voice climbing a couple of octaves. “You do know you moved to Chicago, right?”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized.” Tommy turned around in a circle. “The hot dog stands on every other corner and the fact that anytime anyone runs into me they say ‘ope’ definitely didn’t give that one away.”
I stood there, my mouth hanging open at his sharp comeback. There was a playful glint to his eyes as he watched me struggle to figure out a response. Playful banter was definitely not on the list of things I imagined him to be good at. I would have placed my money on him firing off a rude response. It took me so much by surprise that I remained there in front of him opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. Tommy, thankfully, saved me from the further embarrassment of being dumbstruck by him.
“Do you want a ride?” he repeated.
It was telling enough that I was seriously debating risking having some homeless man try to braid my hair versus getting in a car with Tommy Mikals. But I realized that my capacity for public spaces had been met for the day, so I found myself nodding at Tommy’s offer.
“I’m just around the corner.” Tommy’s hand went to my lower back as he steered me around the side of the building toward the parking lot behind the club. I hated myself for actually liking the feel of his hand pressed into the back of my jacket. It felt strong, secure. Like if someone were to jump us in the alleyway right now, I’d probably live to tell the tale.
“Tommy!” Maybe I had thought too soon about someone jumping us in the alleyway. A flash went off, and I barely had time to cover my face before I was blinded.
Oh shit.
I heard Tommy curse a much worse word under his breath before that hand on my back started to apply a little more pressure to quicken our pace. The lights on a car ahead of us started to flash as he hit the unlock button on his key fob about a hundred times. I glanced over my shoulder to see a man with a camera coming after us. A part of me wanted to tell him that there were so many better ways to use his photography skills than taking photos of celebrities, but then reality hit me.
That photo.
If it hit the news outlets tomorrow, the optics would probably look less than stellar. An innocent situation would look more like any other picture of Tommy leaving a nightclub than what was really going on. I would be lumped in with the rest of Tommy Mikals’s one-night stands, and I’d probably find myself in May’s office with my job on the line as soon as I stepped into the stadium. There was a strict no-fraternization clause in my contract that, if broken, would be grounds for immediate termination.
Wonderful.
Tommy pulled my door open, keeping his body between me and the paparazzo before he hurried around the car to the driver’s side. I kept my hand firmly in front of my face as the guy continued to take pictures of us through the front window of Tommy’s car. Luckily, he gave us enough room to leave the parking lot without hitting him.
“That was . . .”
“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” Tommy interrupted me. “I didn’t think there’d be any paparazzi out tonight.”
