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“Hey, I’ve got to take off for a few days,” Chandler said.
“With the beautiful brunette?”
He nodded. “She needs help with some family trouble. It’s an emergency.”
“I’d give her some … trouble. You don’t see a face or body like that every day.”
“Over my physically incapacitated body,” Chandler snarled back at him. He was right. Kylee was unique and gorgeous. Her appealing dark eyes, full lips, and insanely generous curves made him think he’d better add to his prayer a plea to keep his thoughts and intentions pure. Just the feel of her in his arms had been irresistible. And he’d held a lot of women in his arms. The media, and the woman who begged him for photos with them, tried to make him out as a womanizer. He dated a lot, but he rarely kissed his dates, and he never went past kissing.
“That can be arranged, too.” Ty grinned, then laughed. “Good crap, buddy, I’m just trying to rile you. I’ll stay away from her.” He pushed a hand at his short, dark curls. “Wouldn’t want her to dump your butt for me and break your heart.”
Chandler was ready to throw down right here and now, but Ty interrupted him by asking, “You want me to smooth it over with Coach?”
He nodded. Ty was the team captain and the players’ liaison. The coaches were actually meeting with some league officials about the playoffs, or they’d be in the locker room right now. They’d asked the team to shower and plan on a team meeting after the head coach’s hoorah speech. They wouldn’t like Chandler skipping out on the celebration or the plan for playoffs and practices leading up to the first round.
“I’ll call him when I know the details,” he said. “Hopefully I don’t get benched for the playoffs, but this is important.”
“She looked important,” Ty teased. “But seriously. You’re Chandler Delta. I don’t think there’s a coach on the planet idealistic enough to bench you during playoffs for missing a meeting and a few practices.”
“You never know.” Chandler admired coaches who stuck by the rules they laid out, but he’d seen a lot who bent those rules for the superstars. He’d tried to never take advantage of the fact that he was one of the stars. He was always on time, ate clean and didn’t drink so he could perform well, and worked harder than anyone on the field. He thought those facts might help convince the coach he wouldn’t be skipping if this hadn’t been a real emergency. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.”
“Oh, also, can I trade you cars?”
Ty’s brow squiggled. “What? Why?”
Chandler had no idea how to explain and hoped he wouldn’t put his buddy in danger, but it was more of a precautionary measure. If the guy tailing Kylee was savvy enough to find out who number eighty-three was, the player that had carried Kylee off the field, and then it was a quick search through an easily accessible vehicle registration office and he’d have Chandler’s vehicle and license plate. He didn’t think the guy would hurt Ty once he saw he wasn’t the right person and Kylee wasn’t with him.
He shrugged, unable to explain.
“You in trouble, man?” Ty stepped closer.
Chandler lowered his voice. “Kylee might be.” That was as much as he could give him.
“All right, then.” Ty pulled out the keys to his Porsche and handed them over.
“You’re a good friend,” Chandler said, meaning it deeply.
“Tell me about it. I don’t let just anyone take my baby.”
Chandler chuckled and handed over the keys to his Chevy truck. The guys liked to tease him that his four-door truck didn’t fit in the city and hampered his “chick magnet” image, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t a cowboy like his older brothers Thor and Greer, but he subscribed to their theory that a real man drove a truck and always had a knife in his pocket. The only time he didn’t carry a knife was on the field and at the airport.
“Thanks again.”
He slapped his buddy on the shoulder, slung his large lacrosse bag over his shoulder, and hurried toward the office he’d stowed Kylee in. Anticipation to see her again thrummed through his veins. She’d looked incredible in a fitted button-down shirt and pencil skirt. Not many women could boast curves like hers. Most of the women he knew starved themselves into a tragically thin state, and he was often afraid he’d break them if he pulled them close. He loved Kylee’s dark brown, long-lashed eyes and smooth, beautiful face. Some men liked women all made up, but not Chandler. He’d take the fresh-faced innocence of Kylee any day over someone like that fake-looking blonde who’d asked for his jersey.
Pushing the door open, he stared in awe as Kylee was folded in half in some unnatural yoga position. He had no clue how she did that in her fitted skirt, and he thought she was the most appealing woman he’d ever encountered.
“Hey,” she managed, straightening, tugging at her shirt and looking adorably embarrassed, her cheeks turning pink.
“Don’t stop on my account. That looked … uncomfortable.” That was not what he wanted to say. Where was the famed Chandler Delta charm when he needed it?
She smiled at him. “I’ve been sitting in a car for over fourteen hours. Everything is stiff.” He shut the door behind him and eased in closer. Her gaze traveled over him and she said in a rush, “You clean up nice. Though you also looked incredible with no shirt on.”
His brows rose, and he felt very, very happy. “Thank you.” He wanted to engage in an invigorating flirting discussion, but he had to put her safety first. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
She glanced around nervously. “Can we go somewhere safe to talk?”
