Chapter 20

CHAPTERTWENTY

Trey neededhis head examined for agreeing to a photo shoot at five o’clock in the damn morning. He was tired and horny after a sleepless night breaking down the images of London coming apart in his arms. She was gorgeous in her ecstasy.

Except her pleasure rapidly evaporated when the door to the wine cellar began to budge yesterday. She’d scrambled from his lap and buttoned her blouse, hurriedly flipping up the collar to cover the marks he’d left on her neck. The welder and his team had pried open the door barely six inches when she slipped through and made her escape. He wasn’t surprised to find his kitchen empty by the time he made his way upstairs a few moments later.

The only thing rousing him from his bed at zero dark thirty this morning was the knowledge that she’d be at the shoot. He knew he wasn’t imagining the passionate way she responded to him. Yet, he didn’t know if what they shared could become more than a few stolen kisses here and there. He did know he wanted her with a fervor he’d never felt for any other woman.

His increasing need for her was becoming a distraction. One he couldn’t afford a week before the season kicked off. If it were any other woman, he’d take her to bed, slack his desire and get her out of his system so he could concentrate on the one thing that mattered most: football.

But London wasn’t any other woman. She was the one in a million female who’d held his heart in her hands a decade ago. Until he’d failed her.

She’d stated unequivocally that she’d never trust him again. And that was on him. He knew her well enough to know she wasn’t the type of woman who’d sleep with a guy she didn’t trust. No matter how strong the attraction. That left him with two options: navigate the season with perpetual blue balls, or take Fletcher’s advice and do whatever it took to earn back her trust.

Either way, he was screwed. Because the last thing he wanted was to hurt her ever again. Unfortunately, disappointing women was hardwired into his genetics. Ignoring what was simmering between them would be the wisest—and safest--choice. Turns out, though, Trey wasn’t as wise as everyone gave him credit for. He’d decided to put everything on the line, going for the Hail Mary and hoping like hell it would end with a score.

His plan hit a snag right at the line of scrimmage, though, when London didn’t show up for the photo shoot. Instead, she’d sent Bennie in her place. If her boss knew about the tonsil hockey she and Trey had been playing, he didn’t let on. As an added bonus, Seth Gunther and Collin weren’t early risers, making the hour-long session quick and painless. Except for the constant ache Trey felt knowing that he didn’t have an excuse to see London again.

Five hours and one shitty morning practice later, he was roaming through the hallways of the Growlers’ executive offices looking for the team’s owner. It was a testament to how desperate he was to contrive an excuse to see London that he was willing to enlist the aid of his boss. He was hoping he could fabricate some sort of issue with the gala that necessitated Mrs. C calling a committee meeting. Or at the very least, something pressing enough that a visit to the Westbrook offices was warranted.

He hadn’t counted on having an audience while he did so, however. Especially one that included Antonio McGraff, his least favorite wideout at the moment. Fumble Fingers had dropped seven passes in practice today. Sure, Trey had had some trouble getting the right spin on the ball. Given his current circumstances, it was understandable. But McGraff was getting paid millions to compensate.

“For someone who dropped more passes than he caught this morning, you’ve sure got a lot of time on your hands for flirting,” Trey barked.

The young woman McGraff was chatting up squeaked softly before busying herself at her computer. For his part, McGraff barely flinched. The guy was a number one draft pick for a reason. What he lacked in ball control this morning, he more than made up for in cocky mental toughness.

The wideout lifted a brow and replied with a generous helping of snark. “Like my daddy always said, it’s a poor mechanic who blames his tools.”

Trey was about to give the little shit a set-down he’d never forget when a throat cleared behind him. He turned to see Mrs. C leveling a Mama Bear look at him. McGraff had endeared himself to the team’s matriarch early in his rookie year and could do no wrong in her eyes. Trey blew out a frustrated breath.

Mrs. C edged past Trey to put something on the other woman’s desk. “Thank you, Astrid. It looks like we’re all set for the picnic this weekend.”

Astrid smiled at her boss. With porcelain skin, doe-like eyes and an endearing grin, Trey could see why his teammate was so infatuated with the young Asian woman. Still, the guy needed to keep it in his pants and focus on the damn game he was paid so much to play.

Hello, pot. Meet kettle.

“Mr. Gunther called again asking if there was any chance he could secure an invite,” Astrid said.

“Heavens, no,” Mrs. C replied.

“Hell, no,” Trey said at the same time.

The team owner studied him carefully while she directed her words to Astrid. “The picnic is strictly for players, staff, and their families. Advertisers get enough perks. And it will be my pleasure to remind him of that when I see him at the Boys and Girls Club event today.”

Trey scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“I thought you two were pretty cozy given that you’re promoting his cheese,” she said.

“The man’s an egomaniac.”

“You have to admit his cheese is pretty good, though,” McGraff chimed in.

“Well then, at least the girls and boys will enjoy their special treat this afternoon.” She arched an eyebrow at Trey. “I take it you dodged a bullet and get to skip today’s Gunther Cheese promotion at the Boy’s and Girl’s Club. London mentioned it would be centered around the cow puppet instead.”

McGraff chuckled. “Dude, you’ve been replaced by a puppet already?”

Trey ignored his teammate’s remark. He was too busy mentally patting himself on the back. He’d come up here looking to create an excuse to see London again and Mrs. C had just handed him one on a silver platter.

“Actually, I thought I’d drop by to see the kids. Without advance notice, the media won’t be there to turn it into a circus.”

Mrs. C eyed him shrewdly.

“What?” Trey demanded. “You’re always saying I should put myself out there more. Show I’m human. What better way than to surprise a bunch of kids?”

This time McGraff’s chuckle was more like a snort.

“And just for that, you’re coming, too, Fumble Fingers,” Trey told his teammate. “Hustle over to community relations and grab some swag. We leave in twenty.” He turned to his boss. “Would you like a ride?”

She shook her head. “I’m planning to stay only long enough for the photo Gunther is insisting on.”

Trey nodded, eager to get down to the locker room and change. “See you there.”

“Oh, Trey,” she called after him. “You didn’t RSVP for a plus-one at the picnic. Are we to assume you’re coming solo?”

Not if he could convince London to join him. The very idea had a grin teasing his lips. “Put me down for two.”

* * *

London hadto be seeing things. Surely that was not Trey Van Horn strolling into the Vey Center with Antonio McGraff on his heels? The pair were instantly swallowed up by the kids in the room. Trey grinned at them as he slipped into the role of Santa, patting kids on the shoulder while doling out Growlers swag from a bag McGraff had draped over his shoulder. She was so mesmerized by the scene, London forgot all about the B-roll she should be shooting for social media.

“Well, isn’t this a nice moment?” Bennie sounded as excited as the kids.

She was tempted to ask her boss to pinch her, but Trey continued to surprise her with his actions. Why should today be any different? She was relieved to see one of the interns filming the scene on his phone.

“He wasn’t kidding when he said he gave everything one hundred percent of his effort,” Bennie said.

Her nipples were suddenly hard just recalling the many ways his lips and tongue had given them ‘one hundred percent effort’ yesterday. Not that they had to work that hard. Gah! She could feel her cheeks flame at the memory of how fast she’d come. Trey must think she was some desperate virginal wallflower from one of Lucy’s romance novels.

She wanted to blame the wine. But the truth was, Trey seemed to have a map to her body’s erogenous zones and he wasn’t afraid to use it. It made her angry that no other man bothered to take the time to perform their own due diligence. Life would be much easier if Trey wasn’t the only one with this much power over her.

It wasn’t lost on her that she had a similar power over him. She couldn’t take it too seriously though. Because what man wouldn’t respond to a woman who was constantly throwing herself at him? Or turning to putty the moment his lips met her skin? He was a male, after all. A guy who was suddenly aiming his panty melting smile her way.

London didn’t have the patience for Trey Van Horn and his sexy wiles today. She’d purposely avoided the photo shoot this morning to rest her battle-weary senses from the havoc being in his orbit always caused. Besides, today’s event wasn’t about Trey and his football team. It was supposed to be Mooz-R-Ella the puppet promoting Gunther’s string cheese.

She stormed over to where the kids were lined up waiting for their moment with Trey and his teammate. “Why are you hijacking my event?” she demanded. “I need them eating string cheese and playing with a cow puppet. Not footballs.”

“Right. My bad.” Trey grinned at the kids. “I’m pretty hungry for some cheese. Who else wants some?”

Twenty minutes later, the kids were all happily munching on Gunther’s cheese. London was busy capturing as much video as she could only to find that her camera was constantly drawn to capturing Trey as he interacted with the youngsters. He was a natural, at one point even letting one of the girls paint his fingernails green and white for the Growlers. The video would make the perfect social media reel combatting his “robot” image. She ought to send it to his obnoxious agent.

“Remind me to leave McGraff home next time,” he murmured when he wandered over to her side. “He’s getting as bad as Kessler with the dares.” A look of horror passed over his face when he glanced down at his hands. “This stuff comes off easily, right?”

She couldn’t hold back her grin. It was amazing to see the playful, relaxed Trey she’d loved come back to life. “Nothing that a little nail polish remover won’t cure.”

“I don’t suppose you have any?”

“Nope. I get my nails done at my friend’s salon. You can pick some up at a drugstore.”

His bottom lip curled into a sulk and London had to fight off the urge to kiss it away. She slammed her eyes shut.

“This was not part of your contract, Trey. Why are you here?”

London could feel his stare as it moved over her face, then lower. She flicked her lids open. His eyes were trained on her and the pout was gone. It had been replaced with a solemn expression.

“I wanted to see you. You left very abruptly yesterday.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her with his body so that anyone watching wouldn’t be able to make out what they were saying. “Things got a little out of hand.”

That was an understatement.

A blush of embarrassment was heating her cheeks again. Could this get any worse? She aimed her gaze at his sculpted chest, not wanting him to see her humiliation.

“It was the wine,” she lied, desperate to put an end to this conversation. “It makes me very…uninhibited, that’s all. You didn’t take advantage, if that’s what you’re worried about. I barely remember a thing.”

A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest. His finger gently guided her chin up so their eyes met. She watched, mesmerized as his darkened with passion.

“Well, I remember every second. In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Oh my.

He stepped closer. “We need to talk about this, London. Because this—” he motioned between them “—is not going away. No matter how hard we try to ignore it.”

“We’ll just have to try harder,” she whispered, hating how futile the words sounded. Hating that she couldn’t seem to step away from him. Hating that he’d rekindled the desire she felt for him. Desire she’d believed to be long extinguished.

He slowly shook his head. “I don’t want to try harder. And I don’t think you do either, London. Have dinner with me. We need to hash this out.”

Something that felt a lot like panic gripped her stomach. The last two times she’d been alone with Trey, they’d “hashed things out” via a lip-lock. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to be alone with him again.

She shook her head. “I can’t. Besides, we decided we weren’t going to go there anymore.”

“No. As I keep pointing out, you decided that. Which begs the question, why not?”

Why not?

There were a million reasons “why not.” Too bad she couldn’t come up with a single one right now. Not while he was touching her. Not while his smoldering gaze was locked in on her. Not while she could still remember the feel of his lips pressed against her skin.

For the first time in the past two months, she was grateful for the sound of Seth Gunther’s overbearing voice.

“Are you kidding me? Is that our favorite quarterback over there?”

Trey swore violently. London took a giant step back. Seth was already charging across the room, Bennie on his heels. She was grateful for the shelter of Trey’s body when he turned to face Seth. It protected her from preying eyes, allowing her to regain her composure. Seth and Bennie were so busy fawning over Trey, none of them noticed when she slipped from the room and out of the Vey Center.

* * *

Why not?

Hours later, Trey’s question continued to ricochet through London’s head. He was right about the “thing” between them not going away. Lucky for her, she was moving to Chicago in a month. Distance would help the feelings to fade. After all, it had worked once before.

Except she wasn’t as confident it would work again. Because now she knew for certain the man she’d fallen for all those years ago still existed beneath the polished image he’d created for the rest of the world. Her heart ached wondering why he continued to hide that guy from everyone but her. The rest of her body ached for very different reasons. She squirmed in her chair.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Lucy asked.

“Uh—”

London glanced around the busy nail salon. The place was filled with Lucy’s family and friends, all drinking wine and gossiping at the monthly spa night. Beside her, Lucy was eyeing London curiously while her feet soaked in the whirlpool bath at the base of the chair. London was embarrassed she hadn’t heard a word her friend had said.

“Sorry, Luce. I’m still in work mode.” Technically not a lie. Trey was still considered a client.

“Mm. You’re supposed to leave ‘work mode’ at the door, remember? That’s the whole point of spa night.”

“Or you can tell us what’s troubling you,” Lucy’s mom suggested. “Perhaps we can help. Many hands make light work.”

No way was she dishing about Trey. Lucy would kill her for not confiding everything weeks ago. Not to mention there was something even bigger she’d been holding back from her best friend: her move to Chicago.

Guilt clogged her throat. The time never seemed right, though. Upsetting Lucy while she was pregnant didn’t seem wise. At least that’s the excuse London kept leaning on.

But her friend was going to find out eventually. London was going apartment hunting while she was in Chicago editing the commercials next week. Perhaps Mrs. An was right. With all her friends and family here to comfort Lucy, maybe the news wouldn’t be too painful.

“Actually,” she began. “There is something I’ve been meaning to share with you all.”

A hush fell over the salon as everyone turned expectant looks her way. London sucked in a breath trying to summon up some courage when she was quite literally saved by the bell when the chimes above the door rang.

Heads swiveled at the sound.

“Holy snot,” Lucy murmured.

London could think of several other choice words she wanted to utter, none of them as tame as Lucy’s, because, of course, Trey would be the person interrupting spa night. He quickly scanned the salon, a relieved smile forming on his lips when his gaze landed on London.

“Can I help you?” Mrs. An inquired politely, as if a sex-on-a-stick athlete wandered through her doors every day.

Trey pulled his eyes from London to beam at Lucy’s mom. He held up his fingers. “I’m looking for some nail polish remover.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” London yanked her feet from the warm foot bath and shoved them into her flip flops. She could feel everyone’s eyes following her as the rubber soles slapped against the tile floor. “I told you to get some at the drugstore,” she hissed.

“You didn’t tell me there were so many options. Was I supposed to choose the Acetone free? Or one with lanolin? Or MEK? Which, I’m pretty sure is unhealthy, just because they have to use an acronym for whatever odious chemicals are in the bottle.”

She slammed her eyes shut and counted to ten. Unfortunately, he was still standing there when she forced her lids back open. She didn’t appreciate the teasing gleam in his eyes one bit.

“Sit here. I’ll help you.” Angie, Lucy’s aunt, indicated one of the empty manicure tables.

Not happening.

London wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tugged him toward the table. “I’ve got it,” she told Angie.

Lucy’s aunt winked at her before stepping away. The older woman said something in Vietnamese that had everyone in the room laughing.

Great. Just great.

“Sit,” London commanded.

Trey smirked in triumph as he relaxed into the high-back chair. London rifled through the drawers, pulling out cotton balls and a squirt bottle of nail polish remover. She saturated the piece of cotton and reached for his hand.

Bad idea.

The sizzle at the contact raced up her arm. Angry at her unwanted response, she swiped at his fingernail roughly. Thankfully, the salon was bustling with conversation again.

“Why are you really here, Trey?” she murmured, keeping her head tilted down to focus on her task. And to avoid his knowing expression.

“Because we didn’t finish our conversation earlier,” he replied quietly.

She gritted her teeth. “There’s nothing to finish. Your commitment to Gunther Cheese has been met.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

His frustrated tone compelled her to risk looking up at him. The hungry expression she saw in his eyes made her breath catch. It took everything in her arsenal to remind her body that she couldn’t trust him. Would he still want her had their paths not crossed? London doubted it. After all, he’d never given her a compelling reason for why he’d left her without a word in the first place.

“Been there. Done that. And we didn’t work,” she told him as much as herself. “At the risk of repeating myself, my career comes first now. There’s no room for anything else.”

She wiped his hands with a wet towel, rinsing away the remaining nail polish remover.

“Then we’re on the same page,” he said. “My career is always number one with me. But know this, London, you’re the one person I’ll always make time for.”

Her heart stuttered at the sincerity in his words.

“Hear this, too. What’s between us is like nothing I’ve felt before. The fact that you’re afraid to be alone with me tells me it’s making you just as crazy.” He leaned forward. “If you want to explore whatever this is and where it might lead, I’m all in.”

The seductive way he spoke the words had her skin tingling. Not to mention a few other places, too.

He held his hands up, palms out. “No more stalking you. The ball is in your court, now.” He stood up. “The team picnic is on Sunday. I’ll leave your name at the reception tent. No pressure. But if you want to see where this leads, that’s where you’ll find me.”

Dropping a twenty-dollar bill on the table, he waved to Mrs. An and sauntered out of the salon.