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We’d been best friends ever since.
And the second I realized I couldn’t live without her was the second I put her strictly in the off-limits section of my mind. Did it stop the fantasies I had about getting my hands on her body? No. But it kept me in check well enough the past decade.
“How’s the poker game?” Hendrix asked, jarring me back to the present.
“Fine,” I said. “Doyle is still an asshole, but there is no getting around that.”
“I can’t believe he has the balls to cross Gareth at the games like you say he does,” Hendrix said. “I only see Gareth when he comes to the games or the occasional locker room drop-in, but he’s a scary motherfucker, even to me.”
“That’s why I like having him on my side,” I said. Gareth was intimidating as hell with his sleeves of tats and the predominantly pissed off look he boasted on the regular, but he was a smart-as-fuck businessman and an even better friend.
“You talking to Weston?” I heard Savannah’s voice off the screen, and Hendrix looked toward the source of the sound.
The shift in him was immediate, his features completely transforming into a love-struck man with eyes only for her.
“Yeah,” Hendrix answered, and then a flash of red hair popped into the screen right before she leaned over Hendrix so I could see her face too.
“Hi, Weston!” She smiled at me.
“Hi, Savannah,” I said. “How’s my asshole friend treating you?” I asked. She was the contract manager for the Charleston Hurricanes, which my friend Ethan Berkley happened to own.
“Oh stop,” she said, waving me off. “He’s not an asshole.”
Hendrix looked up at her, cocking a brow. “A video of him went viral not two weeks ago because he broke a baseball bat when one of the umpires made a bad call.”
That sounded like Ethan all right, but I hadn’t seen the video. Normally I kept up with as much media coverage on myself and my friends as possible so I could try and stay on top of things, but the last two weeks had been madness. With Brynn transitioning into the new role, we’d worked past dinner almost every night. Not that Ihadto stay with her, but I wasn’t about to leave her hanging when she’d done the same for me for years.
“Fine,” Savannah said. “That was a little intense, but I swear he’s the nicest guy to me.”
That was Ethan through and through—a dick to his players or anyone who crossed him, but a freaking charmer to women. Guy had a skewed sense of manners, but it worked for him. Not that he’d ever use the charm to actually lock down a relationship. I don’t think I’d ever seen him with the same woman twice—which I’m sure had more to do with his past than his present—but doubted anyone would put up with his antics for longer than a week.
We were the same in that regard, though our reasoning for wanting to stay single was drastically different.
“Hope to see you soon, Weston,” Savannah said, heading out of frame. “And say hi to Brynn for me!” she called as she walked away, Hendrix’s eyes locked on her off screen.
I could practically see the happiness radiating off of him, and while I was pumped for my friend to be living that couple-life bliss, it was also just this side of nauseating.
“I can see I’ve lost you,” I said, laughing as Hendrix finally looked back at the camera.
“Sorry, man,” he said. “I’m here. Tell me more about—”
“Nah,” I cut him off. “I wouldn’t pay attention to me either if I was that in love. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you next month.”
“Alright, brother,” he said. “Try not to let Brynn overwork you now that she’s your boss.”
“She’s not my boss—”
“Sure she is,” he said, then smiled at me before ending the call.
I laughed, pocketing my phone. I missed that cocky bastard.
Shutting down my computer and flicking off the lights, I headed toward Brynn’s office.
The sun had fully set, leaving the skyline outside the floor-to-ceiling windows in Brynn’s office a glittering mix of light and midnight. I leaned against her opened doorway, allowing myself a few secluded seconds to just watch her.
Fuck, she was gorgeous, all delicate curves and graceful movements as she leaned over an array of art boards strewn across her desk. Her strawberry blonde hair was up in that knot thing again that showed off her neck, a few stray pieces having come lose, practically begging to be brushed off her smooth skin.
Her brow was pinched as she looked over the team’s most recent sketches for the Nike campaign, and she shifted, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. I imagined she had quite the knot forming back there, especially if she’d been bent over her desk like she was for more than an hour.
