Page 105 of Tight End


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Brody

I spent the day worrying about Taylor.

I grew up playing ball in Texas. Hell, our junior high football games were televised. I’d been having a camera shoved in my face since before I could drive my pop’s truck.

But Taylor? She wasn’t used to this kind of media attention. Yeah, she was a cheerleader for the Stallions, and for the Raiders before that, but those girls only got attention when they were on the field. They didn’t have reporters and paparazzi camped outside their apartment on a Monday morning. So I worried about her.

Despite that, my shoulders felt lighter than they had in a long time. Everything was out in the open. We didn’t have to hide anymore. There was a kind of freedom in that, even if it meant suffering some camera shots and public attention. We could finally start figuring out what kind of us there was to us.

I texted her around ten in the morning to see how she was doing. She didn’t respond until an hour later.

Brody: You handling things okay, baby-cakes?

Taylor: Hey, we need to talk. I’m about to sneak away for lunch. Are you at your place?

Brody: I’m here, but you probably shouldn’t swing by. There’s still an army of reporters downstairs hoping you’ll pop on by.

Taylor: Can we meet somewhere else, then?

Brody: Actually, I’ve got an idea.

I walked downstairs with Luna on her leash. The photographers all jumped to attention when I came out the door, but I held out a hand.

“Sorry, just takin’ this angsty girl to the dog park,” I said. “Feel free to follow me if you want, but it’ll be real boring.”

I walked over to the parking garage where my car was and put Luna in the back seat. When I drove out, nobody followed me.

The dog park was five minutes away, a big donut-shaped piece of land with a lake in the middle. The lake was frozen over, but only a thin layer of snow covered the surrounding ground. Luna took off as soon as we were inside, and three other dogs immediately began chasing her in a wide loop around the lake.

Taylor showed up a few minutes later. She was absolutely stunning in her black coat, with red hair spilling out from beneath a knitted cap.

Yeah, I thought at the sight of her. I definitely love this girl.

I didn’t know when I wanted to tell her. I could blurt it out right now. This wasn’t a very romantic place to drop the L-bomb, but sometimes the heart overruled all logic.

Before I could, Taylor said, “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh,” I replied. “That usually isn’t good news.”

She shoved her hands in her pockets and remained a few feet away. I wanted to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and hug her, but something in her eyes told me not to.

“It’s about the speech you gave the other day…”

“The press conference?” I grinned. “I meant every word, Foxy. I’ve lived a pretty great life, but out of everything, you are…”

“You shouldn’t have said it.”

I gave a start. “Huh? Why not?”

She waved a hand around in annoyance. “You created all this media attention. Everyone wants to interview me, and snap photos of me walking into my department, and who knows what else.”

“That was gonna happen whether we wanted it to or not,” I replied. “They had photos of us in the park. Holding hands and snuggling all close.”

Her lips—lips I wanted to kiss—pursed together. “Your press conference made it worse! And Isabella… I can probably kiss my cheerleading spot goodbye.”

“I couldn’t go up there and lie,” I said. “It’s been eating me up. I had to let it out. Yeah, things suck because of Isabella. Maybe we can talk to her about it. And if not, well, at least it’s just a side-job.”

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