Chase nodded, collecting his thoughts. His wide receiver bounced on his feet, but waited.
"It's not her - it's why she's here," Chase finally said. "I know that we've got a rough reputation in the papers, but why does that matter if it doesn't affect our game performance?"
"Yeah, but it affects ticket sales," DeShaun answered.
"I'd think that it would boost them, though. People wanting to come see me - I might not always have my name in the headlines for good things, but at least they know my name! That's better than half the quarterbacks in the league."
His observation was answered with a shrug. "Maybe it's not the right kind of attention - but I don't know," DeShaun answered. "Man, there's a reason why I'm out here running and catching footballs, not wearing a suit and tie somewhere and looking at numbers on a spreadsheet or some shit."
Most people wouldn't have caught the faint note of irritation in the wide receiver's voice, but Chase had learned how to listen for it. "Listen, I'm probably just running around in circles inside my head," he said, looking over. "Why don't you go run your drills, and I'll see if I can work things out on my own?"
"Long as you get through this, man," DeShaun answered, turning to head off towards the other end of the field. "Maybe, you want to help this girl out, you keep your pants on for a couple nights, whaddaya say?"
"No promises," Chase immediately answered, getting a grin. "And hell, maybe she'll start flirting with me - and then what can I do?"
DeShaun leveled a finger at him. "Seriously, don't fuck her," he warned. "That's the kind of shit that gets you in real trouble with the managers, and probably Benson himself as well, if he finds out."
"I won't, I won't," Chase said, holding out his hands, but DeShaun didn't look convinced.
"That's the same thing you said about Loeb's wife," he pointed out. "And then, what happened at the next team party?"
"Hey, not my fault! She came onto me, practically dragged me off into that broom closet! My pants were off and she had her ass backed up to me before I even realized that someone hadn't just turned off all the lights!" Chase retorted.
DeShaun just shook his head. "I don't believe a word of it. But listen, you got plans for tonight yet?"
"Nothing yet. Why?"
"Well, I heard good things about the Kitty Kat Club, downtown," he said, shrugging. "Hot new place, just opened, gonna be a lot of fun - and the owner said that we'd get the VIP treatment for free, to boost turnout. You up for blowing off some steam after dinner tonight?"
He didn't even need to stop to think about the question. "Hell yeah, I am," Chase grinned. "Now, go long, and get ready!"
DeShaun threw his body forward and sprinted downfield, his cleats digging deeply into the turf. Chase watched his running pattern for a moment, and then cocked his arm back and let fly.
The ball flew straight and true, a perfect spiral. A couple of the other team members turned, watching it fly through the air. At first, it looked as though it would miss DeShaun by a dozen feet, but the wide receiver put on an extra burst of speed and juked unexpectedly to one side - right into the ball's path!
With a powerful leap, DeShaun hopped three feet in the air, his arms coming up to wrap securely around the football as it descended. He tucked it under his arm and ran the last half dozen yards into the end zone. Upon crossing the line, he spiked the ball down into the ground and threw up his hands in the air, eliciting a cheer from the other watching Hawks players.
"And he thought that my throwing was off today," Chase grunted to himself, turning to pick up another ball. "Hah!"
The rest of practice flew by in a rush of exertion. By the time that Chase had changed out of his uniform, showered, and pulled on street clothes, he felt more than ready for a good party, something to take his mind off of the rigors of practice.
DeShaun met him in the lobby of their hotel. "Got a cab waiting for us," he grinned, flashing white teeth that stood out in sharp contrast against his dark skin.
"Perfect," Chase replied, following him out to the street. The usual crowd of paparazzi snapped their flashbulbs at him, but he ignored them. Most of them didn't bother snapping more than a picture or two, anyways; they knew that they'd get much better shots later on, later in the evening, when the party at the Kitty Kat Club let out.
The cabbie drove them straight to the club, dropping them off right in front of the club after Chase passed him a twenty to illegally double-park. They climbed out, gave a wave to the cheering crowd of clubbers waiting outside the building to get inside, and strolled up the red carpet entrance.
"Nice place, huh?" DeShaun shouted to Chase, who just shrugged. Sure, it looked alright, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen at a dozen clubs already.
Inside, the club's floor manager met them and showed them over to a large circular booth, with gauzy curtains hanging around the sides and back to block other clubbers from crashing their party. "We'll get bottles out to you right away, guys," the man shouted over the thumping music. "And just point out anyone you want to party with to the security guys, and they'll get them in here! No limits, eh?" He raised his eyebrows in a thoroughly suggestive expression.
"Yeah, thanks," DeShaun told the man, making him disappear, as Chase sank down into the wraparound couch in the VIP booth. He spread his arms out across the back of the couch, giving his eyes and ears a moment to adjust to the club's interior scene.
It was barely eight in the evening, but the club already looked decently full. The guy at the DJ's station looked like an average white boy, but he was at least managing to keep a thumping rhythm pounding out through the speakers, and the young men and women on the dance floor happily shook their mostly exposed bodies and grooved along with the bass beat.
Chase watched one particularly tall woman shake a pair of tits that had to be real, nearly tumbling them out of her skin-tight top. She glanced up, saw him looking at her, and stuck her tongue out as she lifted her hands up to give her breasts a squeeze.
Chase grinned back, although he let his eyes keep on moving over the crowd. This early, he was just window shopping, taking the opportunity to drink in the sights before he got too smashed on alcohol. For as long as he could remember, he'd always had eyes bigger than his stomach, so to speak, but he never got tired of the mesmerizing sight of a young woman, totally confident in her sexy body, working what she had on the dance floor for everyone else to see and admire.
His eyes kept scrolling. He lingered for a moment on a tall redhead, her curls bouncing around her as she swayed to the music. Something about her looked far too elegant for her to be in this club, but she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, and her thin figure still had curves in all the right places.
The redhead moved slightly to one side, and Chase saw that she wasn't alone. There was another young woman dancing with her, so short that she'd been blocked from view.
Chase frowned, squinting in the dim light. Why did that shorter little woman look familiar to him-
The strobe lights flashed, and his brain suddenly made the connection.
The short woman dancing with her redheaded friend was none other than Katy, the newest staff member of the Hawks! What in the world was she doing here?
Already up and out of his seat, halfway to the bouncer standing implacably beside the entrance to the VIP booth, Chase paused for a moment. DeShaun had told him to leave this girl alone, he considered. Maybe he ought not to-
But this seemed like too perfect of an opportunity to get to know her a little better. That's all he wanted, he told himself. Just to talk with her, not to get her naked and riding his dick.
Although who could say how the night might end up?
"Hey, see those two?" he spoke up to the bouncer before he could change his mind. "The redhead and the short friend? Get them in here!"
He settled back on the couch, grinning as the big man strolled off across the club to fetch Katy and her friend.
Chapter Six
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
☼
"Okay, fine! This is kind of fun!" I shouted up to Miranda as I happily wiggled my ass back and forth. "Maybe coming out was a good idea!"
"What?" she called back to me, looking down at me.
I considered trying to project my voice up towards her, but decided not to bother after a minute. Instead, I focused on using my breath to keep myself from growing exhausted as I wiggled back and forth, loving how the heavy, thumping bass beat seemed to penetrate all the way into my bones.
At first, upon arriving out at the club, I hadn't felt much like drinking. But Miranda was insistent, and the two fizzy, deliciously sweet pink drinks that she brought to me were even more insistent. Pretty soon, she'd managed to lure me out onto the dance floor, into the press of people.
I went along, begrudgingly at first, but soon enjoying myself. The music was good, the drinks had settled into my stomach to give me a lovely, fuzzy warm feeling, and I deserved to cut loose a bit! If my very first day of my job was any indication, I'd need to take plenty of time to myself to shake off some of my stress!
Miranda smiled back at me as she danced. I paused for a moment, catching my breath as I watched her. Good lord, my friend even danced in clubs in a sophisticated manner! I couldn't pin my finger on what exactly about her movements made them seem so refined and elegant compared to everyone else, but she somehow managed to project pure class and noble confidence.
I tried to not compare my hip-wiggling dance to her movements. Remember, Katy, I'm here to have fun, I pointed out to myself. It's not as though I'm out here with anyone else who might judge me-
"Excuse me, ladies?"
I glanced up in surprise as a shadow fell over the two of us. At first, I thought that a mountain had somehow come to life and approached us. A minute later, my brain caught up with the fizzy pink drinks inside me, and the dark mountain resolved itself into a bouncer, looming over us, the lights glinting off his bald pate.
"Are we in trouble?" Miranda asked, turning and looking at the bouncer as I focused on getting my breath back.
The mountain of a man shook his head. "Actually, one of the VIPs spotted you," he replied. He jerked a sausage of a thumb over his shoulder. "He invited you to come join him in his booth, if you want."
I opened my mouth to protest that no, we were fine right here, but Miranda reached down and slapped her thin fingers over my mouth before I could speak. "That sounds wonderful," she replied quickly, as I tried to decide whether or not to bite at these fingers suddenly blocking my mouth. "Lead the way!"
"What are you doing!?" I hissed at her, as soon as she let go of my mouth.
"Oh, lighten up!" she replied, beaming back at me as she followed the bouncer. The huge man simply plodded forward, separating the crowd in front of him like a snowplow. By sticking close to him, Miranda and I were able to avoid being swept away.
"Lighten up? But why-"
"We're out here to have fun, to take your mind off of the stresses of managing crazy football players!" Miranda pointed out to me, as if I was a small child missing an obvious fact. "And that means we have to go with whatever the night hands to us! Besides, it will be fun! The VIP lounges here are great."
I bit my tongue, but my fingernails dug into my palms. I always hated whenever Miranda talked to me as though I was a kid. And how did she know what the VIP booths here were like? She probably got an invite into someone's VIP lounge every time she came here.
I, on the other hand, had never been invited into a VIP area anywhere.
Well, there's a first time for everything, a little voice in my head whispered to me. And this is the first time for going to a VIP lounge! Go along with it and enjoy it!
The little voice in my head seemed suspiciously pink, fruity, and fizzy, but I decided to go along with it. Besides, what else would I do - just stay out in the dance area by myself?
A minute later, the bouncer led us to one of the big lounges on the side of the club, reaching out to tug back the gauzy curtain across the entrance. "Here you are, ladies," he told us, letting us enter.
I stepped into the curtain enclosed area, following after Miranda - and then froze as my eyes settled on the faces of the two men sitting on the couch.
"No. No, no, no," I stated firmly, starting to turn around.
Miranda's hand shot out and caught at my wrist, keeping me from leaving. I stared back at her, amazed that she could latch onto me without even turning to look. How did she know that I was about to run away?
"Well, this is unexpected!" Miranda said warmly, smiling down at DeShaun Jackson, Hawks wide receiver, and Seth Chase, Hawks quarterback. "What a small world! It turns out that I'm here with your brand new social media manager!"
"Oh yes, I know," Seth Chase answered her smoothly, rising up to his feet. He looked past Miranda, down at me. "Fancy seeing you here, Katy."
Next to me, Miranda's mouth opened up into a perfect little O of surprise. For a split second, I felt a twinge of selfish satisfaction. Miranda was so used to always being the center of attention, and to the idea of me as the tagalong friend, that she seemed totally flummoxed by the role reversal.
No sooner had that thought flickered in my head, however, than I felt it pushed away as I looked back at Chase. "You invited me over here?" I asked stupidly.
"Well, I saw you out in the club, and figured that you might want to come enjoy some VIP perks," he replied, still wearing a smile that looked far too innocent on his face. "And maybe the two of us could get to know our newest team member a little better."
I switched my attention over to DeShaun Jackson, still sitting on the couch. Did he look intensely annoyed for some reason? The expression only flickered briefly across his face before he put on a smile and stood up, but I was pretty sure that he wasn't as thrilled as his quarterback to see me there.
This definitely felt like a bad idea. But we were inside the booth, now, and I strongly doubted that I'd be able to convince Miranda to leave, or Chase to let us go. I could always leave on my own, of course, but that would mean an abrupt end to an evening that, up until just a minute ago, I'd been quite enjoying.
"Yeah, sure," I decided instead, stepping over to take a seat on the couch in between Chase and Jackson. "So, what are you two up to? Plotting your next act of wild debauchery?"
"Oh, not yet - we aren't nearly drunk enough!" Chase replied happily, his eyes following me and still smiling at me. "And if we're not drunk enough, neither are you!"
I opened my mouth to protest, but Chase already had a hand up, waving a cocktail waitress over to us. "Bring these ladies whatever they'd like," he told her, turning his attention to pouring himself a generous shot from a bottle full of amber liquid sitting in an ice bucket beside the lounge couch.
Great. It looked like Chase had invited me over here so that he could toy with me, like a cat with a mouse. I resolved to myself not to play his games, not to let him goad me into saying anything without thinking.
I realized a second that the waitress was still waiting to take my drink request. Feeling overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts and feelings, I ordered a vodka cranberry, my default drink. Miranda requested the same thing, a clear sign that she still felt off balance from Chase addressing me, instead of her.
My best friend recovered quickly, however, putting on a smile that grew more certain by the second. "So, you two are going to be working with my best friend!" she enthused, directing her smile back and forth between Jackson and Chase. "You two will both treat her with respect, won't you?"
Jackson opened his mouth to reply, but Chase beat him to the punch. "Oh, I'm sure that we'll try," he replied smoothly, "but she's got quite the challenge in front of her! As I understand it, she's basically the fun police."
I immediately forgot about my previous promise to myself to not rise to his bait. "I'm not here to stop you from having fun!" I burst out, glaring hotly back at Chase. "I'm just trying to make sure that you keep your damn pants on in public?"
"But why, when we can have so
much more fun with them off?" he asked sweetly, taking a sip of his drink as I sputtered in an ineffectual attempt at a response.
The waitress returned with our own drinks, and I tried taking a sip to calm myself, but the alcohol didn't seem to have much effect. I tried taking another sip, sending it down to check on the first one.
On the other side of me, DeShaun Jackson leaned forward. "Listen, Chase is just being an ass," he spoke up, glaring past me at the quarterback. "He's a good quarterback, yeah, but man, it would be nice to go a week without seeing a picture of his naked ass in the papers or online somewhere."
"You get to see the real thing in the showers," Chase retorted to Jackson, making Miranda nearly choke on her drink. "And you can't deny that it's glorious."
Chase turned his attention to Miranda. "You can back me up here, can't you?"
"Not quite - I haven't seen it in person, after all," she said, making Chase laugh and my teeth grind together.
"The night is young!" he told her. "There's still plenty of time for that fact to change."
I had to step in at this point, I realized. "Not happening," I spoke up, leaning forward to physically block Chase and Miranda's view of each other. "I didn't say anything about stopping you two, or any of the other players, from going out at night to have fun. But you're to keep your clothes on, and if that means that I have to be your damn chaperone, so be it!"
"I'm all right with that," Jackson nodded on the heels of my pronouncement.
For just a moment, I thought I saw Chase narrow his eyes at me. But his expression opened up a second later, and he shrugged.
"Sure, whatever," he gave in. "Maybe we'll keep a lid on things tonight - and I can get to know a little more about the fun police."
I felt a growl rumble in the back of my throat at the new and thoroughly unwanted nickname, but hey, I'd happily talk more about myself if it meant that Chase would keep his damn pants on. "Fine," I retorted.
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