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26
Taylor
Within seconds of talking to Brody, it was like everything was back to normal again. He made a joke in that sexy Texas drawl, I laughed, and then we were right back to where we left off that night when we won trivia together.
Everything felt easy and natural with Brody in a way that it never did with other guys. It helped that he was shirtless underneath his fireman’s suspenders. His tan muscles bulged in such a yummy way that I could practically feel the heat coming off his skin. When a guy looked like that, and grinned the way Brody grinned at me, it was easy to forget about the little argument we’d gotten into the last time we spoke.
But beyond that, Dallas Lockett’s proposal had put me in a romantic mood. The kind of mood I wanted to share with Brody. And with every word we spoke to one another, it was like we were being pulled closer together by our raw sexual attraction.
He wants me as much as I want him, I realized.
He even brought up Eric, like he was making sure I was single. But before I could explain to him that Eric and I never got back together, that we were just colleagues again, Brody looked over my shoulder and cursed.
I turned and followed his gaze. A woman wearing a veil-thin genie costume was standing in the living room doorway.
Isabella.
She looked at me, then looked at Brody. And then a dark, vengeful expression fell across her face.
Shit.
“Why, hello,” she said. She might have been speaking to Brody, or me, or both. It wasn’t clear. “What do we have here?”
I’ll admit: I panicked at this moment. I saw my entire cheerleading career flash before my eyes. I had spent years dancing, and staying fit, and practicing routines to get to this point. And the woman standing in front of me had the power to destroy it all with the blink of an eye.
So I did something stupid. Something desperate.
“Pretty sad, if you ask me,” I said. “If I was in the middle of a slump that bad, I wouldn’t come to parties and hit on cheerleaders. But I guess once you get a big shoe endorsement, you can stop caring about how you play on the field, huh?”
I could have stopped there, but Isabella didn’t look convinced. So I charged forward with my strategy.
“A piece of advice?” I said to Brody. “Cheesy pickup lines only work when they’re delivered by winners. Not overpaid stars who can’t hold onto the football.”
I tried to give Brody a private little wink so he would understand why I was saying this, but he didn’t seem to notice. Two cheerleaders nearby let out surprised laughs. A football player I didn’t recognize said, “Damn, that’s cold!”
The first thing I saw in Brody’s eyes was shock. And then, like an oily film covering a beautiful pond, his eyes became filled with pain.
“Can’t blame a fella for tryin’,” he said, playing it off. He downed the rest of his whiskey and then walked away.
“Oh my God,” Isabella said. “What a loser! Was he really hitting on you?”
“He was,” I said. It was the truth, after all.
Isabella stared after Brody. “I can’t believe I ever dated him. It was really satisfying seeing you put him in his place. These football players all think they’re God’s gift to women. They need to be knocked down a peg or two.” She put her hand on my arm. “I’m glad we’re on the same page on this, Taylor.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said. I knew I couldn’t keep up the facade for much longer so I said, “I’m going to get another drink.”
“Come find me later,” Isabella said. “I’ve got some good cheerleader gossip to share!”
I got another wine from the bar and then wandered around the party in the opposite direction as Isabella. It was unnerving suddenly being on her good side. Like a vicious wolf was suddenly acting like a tame house cat.
But even though my tactic had worked flawlessly, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and regret.
He didn’t deserve that. Not in front of everyone.
I walked around the party and made small talk with some of the other cheerleaders I knew, but I was really just searching for Brody. I wanted to apologize for what happened, even if it was a quick apology before Isabella could see us speaking together. Texting him would have been safer, but it felt woefully inadequate after the public thrashing I had given him.
I eventually wandered out onto the back patio. There was a long pool surrounded by standing tables and chairs, with heat lamps to keep the chilly Utah air at bay. I started to turn around to head back inside, but then I saw him.
