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Brad shrugged. “You’ve got to do what feels right.” What else could he say? He pulled the keys out of his pocket. “I’m outta here.”
“You’re skipping the bar?” Kurt sounded surprised.
“Yep. Places to go. People to see.”
“What’s her name?” Tony asked, grinning.
Brad had already opened the door so he lifted his hand in farewell. There was no her but they didn’t need to know that. The best way out of the game night celebrations was to let them think he had a date.
And he did. With an ice pack and a bottle of Advil. The only woman on his mind was Amanda, and she caused almost as much pain as his arm. He didn’t want to think about her. He didn’t want to see her. So why was he sitting in his truck thinking about her?
He pounded the steering wheel with his good hand. “Get out of my head, Amanda.”
With a deep breath, he started his engine, and faced facts. Amanda wasn’t anywhere close to getting out of his head.
13
AS HE DROVE HOME, Brad still thought about Amanda. Almost halfway there, his thoughts managed to churn into suspicions. He had to confront her to make sure she wasn’t jerking Tony around. Problem was, he had no idea where she lived. In some remote corner of his mind that fact registered as a warning he should stay the hell away from her. He ignored the warning and dialed information. Sure enough, she was listed. Name, number, address.
Fifteen minutes later, he stood outside her door, telling himself to leave. But he hesitated. He’d come to talk about Tony, hoping the secret between himself and Amanda would be ammunition to head off trouble.
Yet, if he were honest, he’d admit these were excuses. He’d come here because he simply couldn’t stay away.
Without giving himself time to back out, he knocked. A few seconds passed with no response and again he debated walking away.
“Hello? Who is it?”
“It’s Brad.”
Almost instantly, the door flew open, and Amanda appeared in the doorway, her face lit in panic. She still wore the sexy, form-fitting dress she’d had on at the game. The one that hugged her curves in all the places he wanted to.
Before he knew her intentions, she reached forward and grabbed his arm, yanking him into her house then slamming the door shut behind them.
Whirling to face him, she went on the attack. “Are you crazy?” she demanded. “I rent from the weather woman at the paper. She lives next door.”
He wasn’t used to embarrassing the women in his life and her outrage hit a nerve. “She didn’t see me,” he snapped. “I don’t see why it matters.”
“Of course, you don’t. But it matters to me because—” She shut her mouth, cutting off her own words. “Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?”
“Finding you wasn’t hard. You know, you might want to switch to an unlisted number, considering your job is in the public eye. And for the record,” he added, “if you think I like sneaking around, you’re wrong.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I had to. Besides, no one saw me. I parked a few blocks away.”
She didn’t seem comforted by his words. “Why? Why are you here?”
Whatever he’d expected coming here, it wasn’t this frustration. She was acting as though she was pissed off to see him and he found himself getting defensive and edgy. “We need to talk about this Tony situation.”
Apparently not the right thing to say. If he’d thought she was upset before, it was nothing compared to what followed.
“Tony.” Her tone was low and terse, as if she barely restrained herself from yelling. “To make sure I’m not screwing him, I assume? Well, I’m not. Contrary to your low opinion of me, I’m protecting him.”
“Amanda, I—”
“In fact, I’m protecting him despite my boss’s demands that I do whatever it takes to get the story before Jack. If my landlord sees you here, everyone will think that’s exactly what I’m doing. They’ll think I sleep around to get my stories. After all, people will reveal anything across a set of pillows.” Her hands slashed through the air. “I’ve worked too hard to get that kind of reputation, Brad. Why didn’t you just call? You’ve done it before. I know you know what a telephone is.” She leaned against the wall, giving him free access to the door. “You should go.”
Could he feel like more of a low-down dog? “Amanda—”
“Just go.”
“I don’t want to,” he said. “I’m on edge and I know it. I was unfair.”
“Yes,” she said. “You were.”
He didn’t know what to say. Emotions he didn’t understand or like burned in his gut. Damn it, she got to him, this woman. And he got to her. A need to hear her say as much pressed him to act.
