Page 9 of Elevator Pitch

“Okay, maybe not,” I defend. “Maybe she just wants pleasure. Maybe she wants to feel desired . . . by two men at the same time. Maybe she wants to feel so irresistible that she can’t make a choice and doesn’t have to. They both want her, and they are willing to share her.”

“And that’s what you write . . . because that’s what you want.” An accusation rests in his rugged tone, one almost patronizing and pitying.

I don’t need his judgement. I didn’t follow him to his room. I didn’t invite him over to mine.

Plus, I only said I was toying with the idea, not actually certain I would write such a thing. Not that I’m against a polyamorous story, I’m just not convinced I could write it.

Regardless, Ross Davis might be pretty on the outside but maybe he’s just as shallow, bitter, and judgmental as any other man voicing an opinion about what woman should or should not want. If I wanted two men at once, who is he to say different? And how dare he judge me when he doesn’t know me. We aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about a fictional character. Maybe some women want two men at once, but in reality, I could hardly handle one when I had him.

“And what do you want in life, Ross?”

“I want to manage Chicago.”

His honesty stumps me. His answer doesn’t compare to the judgment he was placing on me.

“Not that the Flash guys aren’t great men and my coaching staff exceptional, but I want to go home.”

Rawness exists in his wish. A yearning for something more.

“Then go home, Ross.” My voice softens but it’s also a command. He needs to leave my room. He needs to get on a plane, petition Chicago for a coaching position, or however that works, and do what makes him happy.

Frustrated and concerned, I exhale. “What are you even doing in my room?”

His eyes widen, meeting mine with a dullness I unfortunately recognize. A withering look of exhaustion. A hollow haze of loneliness. “I just want to talk.”

My shoulders fall and I reach out for his hand, wrapping my fingers around the edge of his.

“Then talk.”

Chapter 3

[Ross]

I didn’t know exactly what to say to her. I didn’t have an honest answer for why I wanted to share a drink with her or crack open this bottle I’d been saving since the season started, when I didn’t have a cause to celebrate.

My team lost the world championship.

The woman I’d been dating broke things off with me three weeks ago in the middle of the playoff mayhem.

My sons don’t like me very much.

After the season is my motto, and the season is now over.

I’m in this weird in-between state where it hasn’t sunk in. Only a few hours have passed. In another couple months, I’ll be itching to coach again, but I won’t have a team. I don’t know where I’ll be. Maybe these are the things we should talk about, but I don’t want to discuss the stuff weighing me down. I just want to have a drink and share some company without a crowd.

Plus, Vee is . . . intriguing.

A woman shared by two men? Fuck me.

And that dance in the elevator. The panic in her face. Her rush to escape and her struggle to enter . . . my room. Her frustration made her cute. Pretty in a way I hadn’t noticed at first. Shoulder-length hair that’s dirty blonde. Medium height with toned legs and curvy hips. Her blue eyes hold wisdom. Her face tells the truth. She’s shown me her feisty side.

I won’t mention how I checked out her tempting back as I lowered her zipper.

I want to know more about this two-men thing. Was she into that? I could never share a woman with another man. Plus, she gives off a good girl vibe, sweet and soft, feminine, yet her wit and tongue are sharp like steel cleats. She isn’t afraid to say what she means or what she feels. She’s a welcome contradiction.

With her hand still clutching the side of mine, I flip my palm and grasp her fingers. They’re tiny compared to mine. Delicate. She said she’s an author. She must type a lot.

“Tell me more about you. Another secret.” With my focus on her hand, I spread her palm over mine, before dragging my thumb and forefinger down the length of her index finger, massaging the extremity as I go.