“So you’re getting over your commitment issues slowly but surely,” Levi quips with a smile. “Next up, you get a permanent place to live.”
“As soon as I know I’m getting a real contract, I’ll pull the trigger,” I promise. I’ve started looking for places, but Coach hasn’t said I’m staying here past this season and management hasn’t offered me a new contract, so I’m still not willing to buy anything. It feels like counting my eggs before they’re hatched.
He pulls off his jersey and starts to remove his shoulder pads. “Well, with the way Rollins is playing, that should happen any day now.”
“It’s not about Rollins,” I argue quietly, even though Eddie has been pulled in the last two games he started and I’ve come in and saved the games. “It’s about me. They need time to see I’m back and this isn’t a fluke. I’m okay with it, and I’ll give them that proof.”
Levi is looking at me with this weird expression and I can’t decide if it’s amusement or respect or what, because Levi doesn’t do expressions often. He’s more of a poker face or resting bitch face kind of guy. “Who are you and what have you done with my emotional, chaotic, temperamental little brother?”
“Get bent,” I tell him with a chuckle.
Jasper walks over, already changed into workout shorts and a crisp new Thunder T-shirt and baseball cap, and sits down beside me. He’s about to participate in his first post-game NHL presser, and I figure he’s coming over because he’s nervous but instead he says, “How are you guys able to stare at that fine piece of ass all day and not make a move? I mean, I know we’re not supposed to, but she’s…damn. She’s worth getting your hands smacked for if you get to smack that ass first.”
“Dude, enough with the locker room talk,” Levi tells him bluntly.
“But…it’s a locker room,” Jasper replies, baffled.
My shoulders are so tight they start to ache. “She’s Jude’s sister, Jasper. Tone it down, or else he’ll make your time here hell.”
Jasper looks stunned. “Really? Holy shit.”
He is stunned into silence…for now. Thank Christ.
Forty-five minutes later I’m standing in Ryanne Bateman’s insanely opulent mansion in Pacific Heights. I’ve been here before, after one of the preseason games last year. But I feel like I have a right to be here now. Back then they were testing me out, and I tanked in the game and felt like a poser. Like the little kid sneaking into the adult party. I’d spent my night in the corner drinking Piña Coladas and feeling sorry for myself until Dixie walked over and let me flirt with her relentlessly. God, that feels like a decade ago, not a year.
“Nice game, Elijah.” Her soft voice hits my ear as she walks by me toward the bar the catering service has set up in the corner of Ryanne’s expansive living room. I watch her go and try not to leer. Then I also walk over and stand beside her, a couple feet away so that it looks casual.
The bartender walks over, and before I can say it, Dixie orders. “Two coconut pineapple Margaritas please.”
I lift an eyebrow. She grins. “You’ll love it. I promise.”
“I’m sure I will,” I say casually and pause to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. “I love everything you’ve brought into my life.”
Her smile goes from cheeky to flattered. My body feels like it’s magnetic and being pulled to her. The bartender slides our frosted Margarita glasses across the bar, and I move the little yellow paper umbrella to the side and take a sip. It’s fucking heaven. “Holy shit, I have a new favorite Margarita.”
She smiles proudly, but before we can continue our conversation Jasper is standing beside me. He looks at my frozen cocktail and then at Dixie’s and smiles at me. “What? Did you lose a bet and you need to drink girlie drinks all night?”
“No” is the only answer I give.
Jasper just shrugs and leans across the bar. “A beer, please!”
The bartender hands him a pint glass filled with some foamy pale ale. Before he can drink it, though, I see Dixie’s eyes attach to something behind me and the casual ease of her expression tighten as her shoulders straighten. And then the focus of her attention speaks. “Well, if it isn’t the two newest additions to my dynasty.”
I turn and am face-to-face with Ryanne. She’s stunning, as usual, in a sleek black wrap dress that hugs her ample breasts and clings to her curvy hips. Her long brown hair is stick straight, and her makeup is sultry and smoky. She’s in her forties and has accomplished more and acquired more wealth than most men have, even ones ten and twenty years older. She knows it, and she enjoys it.
I smile and extend my hand. “Ms. Bateman, thanks for opening your home to us again.”
“I love showing the team some relaxing fun while I’m in town,” she replies, and her thin, perfectly symmetrical pink painted lips part in a smile. “Especially when you boys are on a winning streak.”
She turns her attention to Jasper and introduces herself, because he seems to be completely starstruck and unable to speak. He’s looking at her like she’s his favorite porn star. Since the attention is off me, I use the opportunity to look at Dixie. She’s standing quietly, absently touching the sugar on the rim of her glass with the tip of her index finger while her eyes, as wide as saucers, take in Ryanne. I know she’s met her before. I was there one time when she did, but she still looks like she’s seeing some kind of messiah. It’s cute, but I worry, because unlike Dixie, I know the rumors about Ryanne are true.
“So have you found a place to live yet, Elijah?” Ryanne asks casually.
“No, Ms. Bateman. I’ve found a few possible options but haven’t committed to anything yet.” I take a gulp of my Margarita because the way she’s looking at me makes me uncomfortable. She’s like a leopard sizing up her prey.
“Drop the Bateman stuff, please. Call me Ryanne. The whole team does, and you’re part of the team,” she explains and sips her red wine. “A permanent part, Elijah. The contract offer is being drawn up by the lawyers as we speak.”
Is she serious? She looks serious, even with the smile on her lips. She leans a little closer and drops a hand on my forearm. It’s a flirtatious move, and the level of uncomfortable it makes me is hard to contain, but I have to. She literally owns me.
