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Birdie
Muchtomychagrin,I really like Johnny Playfair.
He's not my type--really, I try very hard not to date athletes because I can't handle the damn ego on those men--but he's...cute. Charming.Wholesome.
Not going to make for an interesting story, that's for damn sure.
We get our beers and head out to the balcony overlooking a small lake. Johnny is talking about his championship win against their rival team, but I'm not really paying attention.
No...I'm too busy staring at his perfectly sculpted arms and imagining what it would feel like to have them wrapped around me.
Suddenly, Johnny stops talking mid-sentence.
"Am I boring you?" he asks.
My eyes dart from his biceps to his eyes. "Not at all."
"Ah...no, I am boring you," he says. "Not giving you the scoop you want, huh?"
I smirk. "You can read me like a book, can't you? Sure--I want something a little more juicy."
"Because you're not really a sports journalist," he says. "You're a gossip columnist."
I put my hand over my heart, opening my mouth in mock horror. "Mr. Playfair, I amhurtthat you would say something like that."
He chuckles and takes a sip of his beer.
"Look...I know you think I'm just another arrogant jock," he says, his eyes suddenly intense. "But I'm not like them. I'm different."
I raise my eyebrows skeptically. "Oh really? How so?"
"I have a secret," he leans in closer. "I'm actually an undercover agent for the FBI."
I burst out laughing. "Yeah right, Johnny. Nice try."
But he's not smiling. His expression is dead serious.
"It's true. I've been working on a case with the Bureau for the past year. And I need your help."
He looks so serious that I'm starting to doubt if he's fucking around with me. The smile fades from my face, my eyes wide.
"Seriously?" I ask.
He grins.
"Not at all."
I shove his shoulder and he cackles maniacally before downing the rest of his beer. "Sorry, sweetheart," he says. "I'm wholesome as fuck. There's not much more to tell."
"So you want me to bring that back to my editor," I say incredulously. "I can see the by-line now:Johnny Playfair, Wholesome as Fuck. Will he go to the major leagues? Find out in this slog through smalltown life!"
"Nothing wrong with small towns," he chides, though the look on his face tells me he's not remotely offended. "What do you hate so much about them?"
I hum. "Well...I don't know. They're crowded, cramped--everyone knows one another."
"If you love gossip..."
"That's the thing," I say. "Idon't. I had enough rumors spread around about me as a kid."
