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“No? God, if some gorgeous professional athlete had my face on his body—figuratively speaking—it’d be a pretty big deal.”
“One, he’s with someone. Two,I’mwith someone. And three, he could snap his fingers and have any woman in South Beach on his firm arm.”
Cora chuckles. “Hey, Dev. What’s it like being famous?”
I look over my shoulder to see Devin, not in the kitchen but standing in the archway with his shoulder against the frame, watching us.Did he hear our conversation?
“I’m not really famous. I play baseball with a few other guys, that’s it.”
I pshaw. “You were featured in Miami Beat as one of Miami’s most eligible bachelors. I think that means you’ve made it.”
“Have you searched yourself online? That’s how you know.” Sitting on the floor at my feet, Crew plucks his phone from his lap. Tapping on his screen, and I can’t help looking over his head.
The search page fills with article after article. Devin’s stats and draft rumors. Praise for his major league debut. Hope for a permanent position on the Sharks’ roster. The infamous Miami Beat article. And then Crew clicks on the images tab. While the top few photos are of Devin in action on the field, the further Crew scrolls, the more images of Devin and his teammates pop up with beautiful women draped all over him. One shot he’s got a model-esque woman on either side of him. Another is Devin with Freddie and Andy, but the bombshell in the photo isn’t wrapped around anyone but Devin. When an image pulls up of another woman kissing his cheek while he grins for the camera, I can’t see any more.
What is he trying to do? Become the next Don Juan?
“I’d say you’re pretty famous.” Crew chuckles, holding up his phone.
I don’t want to cause a scene in front of my family, but I cannot be here. “Excuse me,” I murmur and brush past Devin on my way out of the room.
“Nova. Nova, wait.”
“I just need to go to the bathroom.” Darting for the stairs, I latch onto the banister to propel me up. I can’t look at him right now.
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me if I have to pee or not. Are you my bladder?”
“Nova, will you just listen?”
I spin around, causing him to stumble down a step. “I don’t have to listen to a single word you say, you manwhore.” Whipping back around, I rush up the staircase.
“Manwhore?”
“Yes. Man. Whore,” I bark over my shoulder. “How can you do this to Palmer? Gallivant around Miami with models and allow yourself to be photographed in inappropriate poses. It’s so disrespectful, not to mention tasteless.”
Devin scoffs. “Is this really about Palmer? This injustice against my girlfriend? Or is this about something more?”
“Of course, it’s about Palmer.” Reaching the landing, I march toward my old bedroom door. “As a woman, I’m insulted on her behalf. The nerve men have. I thought better of you, even believing your excuses at VIBE. I shouldn’t have.”
“Nova, would you stop and look at me?” Devin clasps my wrist, yanking me to a stop. “We’re not even together anymore.”
“What?”
“Palmer and I broke up.”
“When? Since when?”
“A few days after we ran into you at Caffe Molise.”
Three weeks.A four-hour flight, making breakfast with the girls yesterday, a Thanksgiving dinner, and this information just slipped his mind? Why the hell didn’t he tell me?
“Is this why? She found out what an attention seeking player you are.”
“You think so little of me that just because I’m in a few photos with some women, I’m sleeping with them. You believe I’d cheat on Palmer.” Devin pushes me into my bedroom, slamming the door behind him. “Those were all taken in the last few weeks,afterwe ended things.”
“Oh. Oh, okay. I get it.” I shove his chest to back him up. “Now that you’re a free man you’re taking advantage of that professional athlete card. All this crap about mybeautiful faceon your arm and how it’s a reminder of our trip, and here you are accepting samples from every model who shows you attention. Classy, Hotshot.”
