Page 28

Chapter 27

Lia

It’s hard to secretly date a professional athlete you’re constantly in close proximity to. I wanted to run up to him after the game, put my arms around him, feel his hands on my waist, and kiss him. His lips. Move down his neck. The blush hits my cheeks, and I hold back the desire to fan myself.

This man makes me physically fucking hot.

We’re wrapping up dinner and I’ve kept count of how many looks I can steal, doing my best to make them sporadic and carefully spaced. I know I’m taking this a bit seriously, but I kind of like the game. Except when I caught him looking at me and I swear I was a few seconds from melting into a puddle.

I pull my credit card out, waiting for the bill, but Megan stops me. “This is a work trip,” she reminds me. “You don’t pay for anything like this. Not tonight. Not ever. You want room service or anything from the snack bar or cafe? Bill it to your room and the Jags will takes care of it.”

Wow . That’s generous.

“Is there some sort of limit?” I can’t help asking for more details.

Megan holds back a laugh, “No, Lia. There’s no limit. Just don’t be an asshole, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m not worried.”

I hate that my brain immediately goes to my grocery budget. If I had a short cash month, this is one of the areas that would suffer. I once went a whole month eating only ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches—I couldn't even get jelly. I count the number of away games I'm scheduled to attend over the next six weeks and can’t help but think of these in terms of days I won’t have to pay for food.

Before I get too emotional thinking of the extra cash I’ve sort of stumbled on, my group gets up and begins walking to the elevator. It takes everything in me not to steal one more look at Brooks.

Everyone says their goodbyes as soon as the elevator dings. We’re all staying on the same floor, but it’s clear our time together is over. Once I'm in my own room, I shut the door, push my back against it, and slide down until I hit the floor.

I take a moment to appreciate where I am. I’ve never stayed in a luxury hotel, while also practically having floor seats to watch my favorite NBA team add a notch to their win column, and have it cost me zero dollars.

A smile hits my lips and I can’t help but laugh. I didn’t see this coming, and I'm still waiting for Megan to tell me there’s been a mistake or for some weird bill to show up that I forgot about. For now, I need to try and soak this in. I take a picture and send it to Wes.

Wes

wow, rub it in why don’t you

i had peanut butter on saltines

Me

don’t act like that’s not your favorite snack

psh still stings when you’re posted up in a 5 star hotel

also, did brooks get bit by a radioactive spider or something

because that was superhero shit tonight

how much marvel have you been watching?

enough to know that brooks may not be human

i’ll tell him you said that

please don’t

or do

wait don’t embarrass me

i’d never do that…

sure you wouldn’t

p.s. still waiting for my invite

Laughing at Wes’ response, I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower, the smell of fresh eucalyptus slowly fills the space. It makes sense, considering the fresh eucalyptus sprigs hanging near the shower head. When I take my clothes off, I brace for the chill of the bathroom tile, but it never comes. Heated floors . My shoulders fall farther from my ears, the stress melting away. I make a mental note to find out if there’s such a thing as DIY heated floors for my little bathroom because this is amazing.

When I step into the shower, hot water hits my skin with pressure you’d only dream about. Steam envelopes me as I stand face first, letting the water rinse me from head to toe. The complimentary shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are a brand I’ve only ever used a sample of—I could never afford it. When I rub the shampoo together in my hands, the suds are soft, and the scent of rosemary and peppermint mixes with the eucalyptus.

I don’t know if I slept wrong again, or if it’s the stress from flying, but my body is oddly sore. It's like my limbs are heavier than they should be and some of my joints are slow and rough. I take in deep, slow breaths and roll my head from side to side, letting the warm air stretch my lungs while welcoming the spark of the peppermint. Back home, I never allow myself long showers for fear of what will happen to my water bill. Tonight, all bets are off. I let the water run over my skin, flushed with the heat until my fingers are wrinkled.

When I'm in my pajamas, I put my phone on do not disturb, pull the heavy duvet from the bed, and fall in. I pull the blanket up, letting my hands fall to my sides, and groan. The sheets, the weight of the down comforter, the pillows—all of it is incredible. I put my hands over my mouth as I let out a squeal and kick my feet.

I reach for my Kindle and open a fantasy series I've been dying to start. Part of me thought I'd start it on the plane, but instead, I gripped the armrest and wondered what it’d be like if we crashed about a hundred times. It wasn’t productive and my fingers are feeling it.

I don’t know how long it’s been, but a knock at the door scares me. Maybe it’s someone from the hotel? Or Megan needs something? I’m out of the bed and practically running to the door. My hand has pulled it open an inch before I remember that women who don’t check the peepholes at hotels usually end up on a true crime podcast.

Taking the risk, I open the door all the way.

It’s not the hotel. Or Megan.

It’s Brooks.