“Eh,” Drake grimaced, seeing the heads swirling around as the shrieks began in earnest. Okay, so maybe this was a mistake. He had to get two sections down the pedway, and he’d be home free – or until he could call security from his cell phone… oh no.
He didn’t have his cell phone on him – he was in uniform.
Cursing softly under his breath, Drake started making his way through the crowd, angling himself carefully so he could break free and run. He haphazardly accepted the marker, signed a few books, a shirt, a popcorn bucket, but when a woman jerked her shirt up for him… that was his sign.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said quickly – yoinked the marker up into the air – and shot off like a cannon in the other direction. His groin hurt from the sudden sprint, but not as much as being mobbed, groped, and manhandled by the ravenous crowd behind him would hurt. Spotting the sign up ahead, he saw the ‘Do not enter’ banner across the door and pressed his hands together for a second in a silent ‘thank you’.
A janitor, he could handle.
A herd of fanatical fans who’d just caught him out in the wild… not so much.
“DRAKE!”
“DRAKE, MY KID LOVES YOU…”
“DRAKE, I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY…”
“Don’t talk to my mom,” he yelped over his shoulder – and slid under the fabric banner, yanked up the kickstand on thedoor, and shut it, throwing the deadbolt. “Whew! I’m safe…” he muttered, shooting a hand down the front of his baseball pants and checking to make sure there were no problems hidden by his cup. Man, something was sore on his hip and groin. Did he have a bruise? A hernia?
And froze a second later as he heard a voice behind him. A voice he recognized in the back of his mind and heard in his nightmares. Instinctively, he yanked his hand out of the front of his pants – and turned slowly to face the inevitable.
“What in the world is going on?”
“Hi neighbor,” Drake began cheerfully before grimacing. “And I can explain…”
2
STEFFI
She was cursed.
Had to be.
Not only was sheluckyenough to rent the house next door to be biggest jerk in the world who constantly was filing complaints with the home owners association – but now her part-time gig for community service to get her out of a pesky traffic ticket for parking her car on the street in front of her place – again – thanks to her neighbor – had her cleaning the bathrooms at the stadium for free.
“I can explain,” her neighbor began again as Steffi shoved the filthy end of the plunger toward the man. He shoved both hands in the air in surrender immediately – eyes guardedly on the warped rubbery threat that loomed before him.
“Look, what you do on your own time behind closed doors to get your rocks off, you freak, is your own business…”
“My rocks off…” he started and hesitated, frowning. “Now wait a second…”
“I saw you diddling yourself, you filthy pervert…”
“I was making sure something wasn’t broken!”
“That’s what all the pervs say!”
“How do you know?” he shot back – and they both paused. “Actually, howdoyou know that? Do we have a problem in the neighborhood?”
“Yes – you.”
“More like your jalopy that’s leaking oil all over the pavement…”
“Ah ha!” Steffi seized, waving the plunger at him again. “So you admit it? It was you ratting me out all the time to the HOA.”
“Your pile of junk leaks oil!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “I cannot believe we’re talking about this right now – park it in your garage!”
“No,” she retorted. “It leaks oil.”
