The Play Maker (The Sideline Series Book 1)

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The Play Maker (The Sideline Series Book 1) Page 13

by L. M. Carr


  “The hell you won’t. You’ll be in my bed every night!”

  “Is that so?” I fight a smile. “But what if—”

  Julian covers my mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Just be careful,” Naomi warns from where she leans against the doorframe, watching me pack. “I feel like things are moving too quickly.”

  I drop the pinstriped bikini into my suitcase, then look up and sigh, eventually nodding. “I know, but this is Julian. You know how I’ve felt about him since, well...forever.”

  “You’re not curious at all about the timing of this whole thing?”

  I shake my head and shrug as I grab another few articles of clothing, adding them to the already over-packed suitcase. “He’s already explained everything, and I believe him.”

  My roommate shrugs. “Like I said, just be careful.”

  I smile. “I’ve already told him if he breaks my heart, I’m cutting off his dick.”

  She snorts. “Then you’ll need an attorney.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing my best friend happens to be one of Houston’s top defense lawyers. Although I sure wish you’d put them in jail instead of trying to keep their asses out!”

  “Innocent until proven guilty, my friend,” she sings. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

  At a soft knock on the front door, Naomi turns. “You expecting someone?” she asks, walking toward it.

  “Nope,” I reply while continuing to pack. Although it’s technically a work trip, I’m hoping to get in a few hours at the beach.

  I grab a new floral sleeveless sundress and hold it against my body before pulling my t-shirt over my head to try it on.

  The sound of a catcall startles me and the dress slips from my fingers as my gaze shoots to my doorway, seeing Justin standing there.

  “Justin!” I shout, immediately reaching down to grab the dress, covering my breasts with it. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyes linger on my body, then travel to my face. “Sorry,” he says, raising a Nordstrom bag. “You left this at my place. Thought you might need it.”

  “Thanks. You can just leave it there.” I motion with my chin to the floor by the door, but Justin doesn’t seem to get the hint that he should leave.

  “Do you need me to pick you up tomorrow? No point in taking two cars to the airport.”

  I feign a smile. “No, thanks. I’ve got a ride.”

  He nods, licking his lips as his gaze rakes over my body again. “All right. Have a good night then.”

  “You, too,” I reply.

  “It was great seeing you,” he adds with a smirk as he walks away.

  I hurl a shoe in his direction, hearing it hit a wall. “You’re still a dick!”

  His laughter fades as he exits the apartment.

  §

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain John Murphy. I’d like to thank you for flying with us on American Airlines. I hope you enjoy your stay in the beautiful state of Hawaii. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin as we make our final descent.”

  I glance out the window and scan the white sand beaches that lead to gorgeous turquoise water. White, fluffy clouds float in the air, the sun shining brightly.

  A mother returns to her seat on the aisle and buckles her toddler in next to me. I smile at the little boy as I reach into my bag, grab a piece of gum and pop it into my mouth, then wipe the sleep from my eyes. I pull out the elastic band in my hair and re-adjust the low ponytail.

  Upon arrival, I wait as passengers walk the narrow aisle and disembark from the plane. I pull a small mirror from my purse and inspect the bags under my eyes.

  “You look fine,” Justin says from the window seat across the aisle.

  I smile. “Thanks. I’m tired.”

  “Late night?” he inquires.

  As we stand, I hesitantly reply, “Something like that.”

  I smile slightly at the memories of my evening with Julian. He was an amazing lover at eighteen. Now, at thirty-five, his skill and precision are incredible.

  Walking to baggage claim, I text Julian.

  Just landed. Miss you already.

  He replies immediately.

  Happy to hear that.

  All packed and ready to go?

  Nope. Still in bed cuddling sheets that smell like you.

  Well, go wash them :)

  :o Never! I love making you come like that. I always have...

  My face heats, which Justin notices.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Better than okay.”

  Grabbing my bags, I decline Justin’s offer to help, then regret it as I struggle to the waiting van, the rest of the team trailing.

  Downtown Honolulu is as beautiful and bustling as I remember, palm trees lining the streets and tall buildings reaching up into the blue sky. It isn’t until we drive through town that a more native feel surrounds us.

  After checking in and meeting up with the production manager to review the week’s itinerary, our crew grabs a quick lunch at Tropical Tribe.

  Eating too much, I’m in desperate need of a nap as I walk back into my room. I send Julian a picture of the view of the ocean from my balcony.

  Look at this view.

  Beautiful.

  After unpacking, I text Rence.

  Hey, you around? Come see me after practice.

  I wait as the three dots appear on my screen, then vanish, making me frown.

  I need to talk to him about Julian before he hears about it from someone else.

  §

  Two hours later, my eyes flutter open to the sound of knocking on the door. I figure that if I ignore it, whoever it is will go away. No such luck.

  “AJ! You in there?” I hear Justin’s muffled voice.

  Annoyed, I roll my eyes and clench my jaw as he knocks again.

  “Hang on! I’m coming!” I climb out of bed.

  “Hurry! I want to watch.”

  I yank the door open. “Not funny.” I stand with my hand on my hip and lean against the door, blocking his access to my room. “What do you need, Justin?”

  “A bunch of us are heading over to Richardson Field to check things out. You coming?” he asks, lips twitching as he tries to suppress a grin.

  “No, I’m good. I’m meeting up with Rence anyway,” I lie.

  “Well then, maybe I’ll see you at the bar later.”

  I stare at him, wishing this weren’t so awkward. “Maybe.”

  I close the door and sit on the bed, fire up my laptop and check my emails, then take a quick shower and get dressed.

  Wearing floral printed shorts, a white tank top and flip flops, I stroll through the lobby and smile at excited fans donning their favorite team jersey. The best players from across the league have been selected to play in Sunday’s game. Pandemonium ensues when a player is spotted on the premises, people rushing toward him.

  I check my phone again, sighing when there is no text from Rence. I’m sure he’s busy with practice and all the “meet and greets” scheduled, but he could at least send a quick one.

  I stop and chat with a few friendly faces from other networks who will be broadcasting the game. While we may compete for ratings and sponsorship, we are all very supportive of one another.

  I wave to a former colleague. “Hey, Jen!”

  “AJ! It’s been a while. How are you?” she asks, leaning in for a quick hug.

  “Working a lot as usual. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Same. Are you covering the Super Bowl?”

  I nod and smile. “I can’t wait.”

  “Too bad Rence’s team didn’t make it. What’s up with him anyway?”

  I snort and wave my hand through the air. “He’ll be fine. He’s happy just to represent his team here.”

  “Nice and vague.” Jen smiles and winks.

  We are joined by a top executive named Charlie Greene and an older gentleman I vaguely recognize.
The glow of his skin reveals he has maximized his time in either the sun or a tanning booth.

  Charlie places a hand on my back. “Have you met Ed Asher?”

  I shake my head and smile tightly. Gigi’s father?

  “I would remember meeting you,” Ed says, extending his leathery hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Asher,” I reply, returning his weak handshake.

  “AJ,” he says, a glimmer in his eyes, “please, call me Ed.”

  I release his hand and stand tall, shifting away from Charlie.

  “And this beautiful lady is one of our best reporters.”

  I listen while Jen engages Ed in a conversation about all the media coverage for the game.

  I chime in. “It’s too bad football has become so commercialized. It’s not like it used to be.”

  Ed turns in my direction. “People pay a lot of money to come to these events. We need to make sure they get a good show.”

  I blurt out, “A show? You’re not referring to the game itself, are you?”

  “Well, some of these guys still have heart, but no brains. They’ve become puppets.”

  Indignation rises in me at his insinuation that men like Rence don’t play for the love of the game. “So does that make you a puppeteer?”

  Ed’s smile turns devious. “Well, seeing as I just acquired a team, I guess I’d have to say yes.”

  A deep scowl forms on my face.

  His brows furrow. “You seem affronted? Have I offended you?”

  I swallow the anxiety rising. “My brother plays for the Chargers. He gives his body, blood and heart for the game. No one controls him. His motives are pure.”

  “What did you say your last name was?”

  “Hamilton.”

  Ed nods as the pieces fall into place. “Ah, yes. Lawrence Hamilton.”

  “Rence,” I correct.

  “Well, your brother is quite hot on the field,” he says, his gaze raking down my body. “Must run in the family.”

  Would it be proper to vomit all over him?

  “And how is your father? We went to college together, but I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “He’s dead,” I reveal nonchalantly.

  Ed raises an eyebrow inquisitively as he waits for me to continue.

  “Heart attack.”

  I glance down at my watch to avoid any more conversation about a man who had died to me long before he was actually dead.

  “Jen, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting up with some friends,” I say, leaning in for a quick embrace, then direct my attention to Ed.

  “Mr. Asher.” I nod once. “Be careful with your puppets. They might cut the strings one day.”

  Feeling triumphant, I walk away with light footsteps. When he calls my name, I glance over my shoulder, seeing a feral look on his face.

  “Little girls shouldn’t play big boy games. They often get hurt, left with skinned knees.”

  Flabbergasted, I’m unable to think of a snide comment, so I simply walk away. As soon as I step outside, I call Julian. I just need to hear his voice and get the thought of Ed Asher out of my brain.

  I groan when his voicemail picks up. I hang up and call right back, hoping he was just in the bathroom or something. When it connects to voicemail again, I leave a message.

  “Hey, it’s me. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you already. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  I call my brother, to no avail.

  Where are they?

  Begrudgingly, I text Justin to find out where he and the crew are, then join them for dinner at one of the restaurants surrounding the hotel. I nurse a glass of wine and enjoy a delectable salmon steak, ignoring Justin’s smile and subtle advances.

  Once we’re done and walk out of the restaurant, Justin places his hand on my arm before I can walk away.

  “Do you want me to walk you to your room?” he asks.

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” I wave to everybody and turn toward the concrete path that leads back to the main lobby.

  “Is this because of MacIntyre?” he demands through slurred words.

  I freeze and turn around. “What are you talking about?”

  Glassy eyes stare at me. “Things between us changed after you got back from California.”

  “Justin,” I sigh. “Look, we were never going to be more than friends. I’m not the one for you.”

  He blinks slowly. “We could’ve had a good thing.”

  “Good night, Justin.”

  Once back in my room, I change into a cami and a pair of shorts. I pick up a book to try and stay awake, hoping Julian calls, but my eyes soon flutter to a close and I fall asleep, dreaming of Julian.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he whispers.

  A smile stretches across my face. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I couldn’t stay away from you.”

  “You already told me that. That’s why you came back,” I reply, running my fingers through his scruff.

  “Yes, but I’ve missed you since you left.”

  “I won’t ever leave you.”

  “But you did. You got on the plane without me.”

  Julian’s scent fills the room, permeating my nose. I inhale slowly. “I love the way you smell.”

  “I need a shower.”

  I imagine Julian’s broad shoulders that lead to a hard chest. My fingers long to touch the peaks and valleys of muscle over his abdomen.

  His lips touch mine.

  “Julian, I love you so much. I’ve been miserable without you.”

  A sharp inhale startles me and my eyes fly open, blindly searching the dark room.

  “What did you say?” somebody whispers.

  “Julian?” I croak.

  I slap my hands over my eyes when the bedside lamp is clicked on. “What the hell?”

  “Say it again, Addison,” he demands.

  “What?” I ask, peeking through my fingers at the man kneeling beside me.

  “You said you loved me.”

  Sitting up, I scrub my hands over my face, completely disorientated, unsure if I’m asleep or awake. “I was dreaming.”

  He smiles. “About me?”

  I beg him to turn off the light, wrap my arms around his neck and fall back onto my pillow, dragging him down on top of me.

  “What are you doing in my room anyway? You’re supposed to be in Houston.”

  “I told you,” he murmurs against my lips. “I couldn’t stay away from you. But back to when you said you loved me.”

  I gently touch his face. “You know I do. I always have.”

  “I need to hear the words.”

  I smile. “I love you. I love you. I love you. Better?”

  He hums and kisses me. “I love you, too.”

  I wrap my arms around his back and squeeze, warmth filling my heart, then pull away, brows furrowed. “How’d you get here?”

  “Private jet.”

  I scoff. “You don’t have a private jet.”

  He laughs. “No, but I know someone who does, so when the offer was made, I took it. I couldn’t stand to be away from you.” He smiles. “You’re stuck with me, baby.”

  §

  “Meet me for lunch?” Julian asks as I head toward the door for an early morning meeting with my team.

  “I’ll text you. I’m not sure where I’m going to be.”

  “Okay. I’ll send you my room number as soon as I check in.”

  “I love you,” I declare and blow a kiss.

  “Best three words ever!”

  When I close the door behind me, I see Justin walking toward me. Hair disheveled, hand against his head, looking slightly green…a guilty look in his eyes.

  “Rough night?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

  He grimaces and moans as I chuckle.

  Our team meets in a conference room at the hotel to review the itinerary leading up to the Pro Bowl.

  “Hey, AJ. Think you can get us some time with MacIntyre?” Ray, one of the production managers, asks.r />
  “Why?” I snap.

  Several photographs are tossed onto the table. My heartbeat quickens and my stomach roils when I see pictures of Julian entering my hotel room.

  “What the fuck?! Where did these come from?”

  Wes shrugs. “The envelope was left for me at the front desk.”

  I dart my eyes to Justin. “Are you following me? Is this some sort of sick joke?”

  He raises his hands in defense. “You’ve got to learn to keep your personal life and professional life separate.”

  A haze of red blurs my vision as I shoot to my feet. “They are separate! But you guys keep pushing the two together. Is this some sort of retaliation because I didn’t ask MacIntyre all the questions you people wanted?”

  I stomp out of the room, mumbling. If I were a man who was seeing one of the cheerleaders, I would be getting high fives, not looks of accusation.

  “Hey.”

  I turn when I hear my brother’s deep voice. A sense of relief washes over me and I practically sprint into his arms. With difficulty, I suppress telling him what just happened, knowing he’d rush into the room and pummel every last one of them. While I am no delicate flower, a girl sometimes just needs her big brother to have her back.

  “Whoa, AJ! Slow down. What’s going on?”

  “Julian…,” I whisper.

  Rence stiffens. “What about him?”

  Panting, I look up into his eyes. “He came to my room last night, and—”

  “What?!” he bellows, grasping my forearms and pushing me away from him, narrowing his eyes. “What did he do to you? I swear to God, I’ll kill that motherfucker if he even comes near you.”

  I pull out of my brother’s hold and look up at him. Panic spikes in me at his murderous expression…nostrils flaring, face red, breathing rapid.

  I shake my head wildly. “It’s not like that… Just listen to me.”

  “You’ve got about three seconds to tell me what’s going on before I start kicking doors in.”

  Confused about what to say, fearful that Rence will go looking for Julian, I blurt out, “We’re back together.”

  “What did you just say?” he whispers ominously. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  I sigh. “Calm down, Rence. Look, I know I should’ve mentioned it, but the truth is, neither yours nor anybody else’s opinion matters. I love him.”

  He pulls back, hurt forming on his face.

 

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