AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then we fell into a comfortable pocket of silence.
“All jokes aside, you got the dark-room effect going here,” Lo noted. “Should Vicky start making a meal plan for you? Scheduling who brings you your tray for breakfast, lunch, afternoon snack, and dinner?”
“Afternoon snack?”
“Everyone needs an afternoon snack. No shame in that.”
Her concern was disguised as a joke, but she was gauging how upset I was about the trending videos. Any attention tended to bring more fanatics out to find me—reporters, bloggers, writers convinced their book about the Midwest Butcher would land them a deal.
Hiding in a dark space kept me alive, so it was my go-to when I needed to feel safe. Vicky and Howard had found me many times in a dark room, but they’d always coaxed me out.
My current dark-room situation wasn’t about the videos going viral, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Lo. The rejection stung, more than it should’ve. That made it sting even more.
What was my issue? So what? He asked me for coffee.
So what if I’d wanted to go?
I could go to coffee with another guy.
That was the thing. I didn’t want to go with someone else. I’d not been interested in anyone for so long. It felt nice, just to have that feeling, and he crushed it so quickly. So cutthroat too.
That side of him was evident in football. He was one of the best defensive linemen for a reason, and I’d always been intrigued by him. I was elated when he came to the Kings. He hated doing press, except for the times he’d promote a charity. He was kind in those moments, no matter what. But there was a deeper, darker, rough side to him—an asshole side. The fans called it the Brood Machine, a play on his last name, when he was on the field. Most quarterbacks feared him. Colby Doubard, the Kings’ quarterback, had said many times that he was glad Broudou played with him and not against him.
Maybe I wanted to have coffee with him because something was healing inside me? Maybe it wasn’t even about him, but about the coffee, about going and having coffee with another person in a date-like setting?
I opened my mouth.
Don’t do this. You know it ain’t about the coffee. That tiny voice was back in my head, this time reprimanding me.
I spoke anyway. “Maybe Roger should set me up with one of his friends.”
Lo went rigid in the bed, then jerked upright with a gasp. “WHAT?!” Her eyes were huge, a wide smile stretching her face. “Okay. No. Don’t answer me. I’m not even going to try to connect the dots for whatever thought train you used to get to that suggestion, but yes! Yes! Travis. It should be Travis. I would never let him set you up with Doug. Nothing against Doug, but as your sister, you need to go with the guy even I would date if I wasn’t already madly in love with Roger. Travis is the guy.”
Girl, what did you do?
I ignored my inner voice. “Okay. Travis it is.”
“Oh! Do you want to double date? OH! Yes. I know you. You’re probably already freaking out inside at the idea of a date. Let’s do a hangout. Group hangout. I’ll invite some of our other friends so it’s not so obvious it’s a setup for you and Travis—”
“No.” I was determined now. This was not about Brett himself. It was about the coffee. “A date. If he’s a friend of Roger’s, I know he’s a good guy. I can meet a good guy for a meal.” Thought it was about the coffee? “Or for coffee.”
“Coffee?” Lo wasn’t privy to my inner voice. Lucky her.
“Either. I don’t care.”
See? This was not about Brett Broudou.
“We can turn the light on now,” I announced.
4
BRETT
We’d had a game yesterday, so I was coming in this morning later than usual. The elevators opened at the stadium, and I stepped off, heading for the reception area in our publicity offices.
The woman behind the desk smiled as she lifted the phone to her ear. “You can have a quick seat, Brett. I’m just letting Kim know you’re here.”
I gave her a nod and helped myself to some water from the little fridge. By the time I turned, Kim was coming out of her office and bustling my way, her suit jacket flapping to the side. Dressed in her normal business top, usually silk, and a business skirt on the bottom with pointed flats on her feet. She was fierce like a bull. Caucasian. Maybe five feet and an inch. Red hair that was cut at her jawline, and a bunch of her strands lifted in the air from how fast she was walking. A pretty face, except for the perpetual scowl she always seemed to have when dealing with me or any of the players. Kim was a no-bullshitter, and seeing the sharp look in her eye, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this meeting. I didn’t often get called to the office. At my old team, they’d learned I wasn’t the one to handle the usual press questions, but if they wanted a player to promote a nonprofit, I was all about that.
