Straddling The Line: Play-By-Play Book 8

by Jaci Burton

Her stomach tightened, though she had no idea why she cared where he went and who he went with. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care.

  She walked up the stairs and went to her room, shutting the door behind her. She couldn’t shut out the sounds of laughter from below, though. And the memories came flooding back of every girl Trevor had been with in college. All the beautiful cheerleaders he’d dated, and how she’d longed for him to notice her as something other than his tutor.

  He never had because he’d only been interested in how she could help him pass his classes.

  She grabbed her iPod and shoved her earbuds in her ears to drown out the sounds from outside.

  TREVOR SAT AT THE EDGE OF THE POOL WHILE TEN-Spot frolicked with the girls.

  This had been a mistake. He’d known it, but Ten had hooked up with Audrey at the club, and Petra had come along for the ride.

  Petra wasn’t even his type. He didn’t go for stacked blondes, especially the ones who were only interested in sleeping with a jock. The girl was obvious. She’d been grinding against him all night long, practically giving him a blowjob in the VIP section of the club. Trevor liked sex as much as the next guy, but he’d like to think he’d grown up a little and enjoyed being the aggressor. Plus, some of these women were a little too aggressive.

  What the hell had happened to subtlety and seduction and letting things happen in their own time?

  Maybe he was getting old, or just damn tired of the game.

  Or maybe he was tired of women like Petra who were only interested in the exposure.

  He didn’t want a girlfriend, anyway. He only wanted to focus on his career. And he was supposed to be concentrating on Haven, on making her feel better.

  This wasn’t cutting it. He had to work harder, should have tried to persuade her to go out with him tonight.

  Instead, he’d ended up with the drunk blonde in his pool who couldn’t care less which athlete she was with, as long as she got to say she slept with someone from the team.

  Looked like Ten-Spot was going to get lucky with both of them, because after Trevor made it clear to Petra that he wasn’t interested, she’d pouted for about three seconds before joining Audrey in making Ten’s night.

  Which suited Trevor just fine. He was tired, and he needed to figure out how to better help Haven.

  He’d do better tomorrow.

  FOUR

  WHEN TREVOR GOT UP THE NEXT MORNING, HE FOUND Haven in the sunroom, the smell of coffee drawing him there. He grabbed the pot and poured himself a cup.

  “Hey, you’re up already.”

  “Yes.” She sat at the table, her laptop and notepad sitting next to her. “Hammond was here early, cleaning up in the kitchen. He makes great coffee, too.” She looked around. “Where are your . . . friends?”

  “They left not long after you went up to bed.”

  “All of them?”

  He crooked a smile. “Yeah. All of them. Petra isn’t my girlfriend. Or even a one-night stand, Haven.”

  She diverted her attention to her laptop. “It’s not any of my business who you sleep with.”

  Yeah, right. Except she’d looked irritated last night. And he had to admit that made him curious. Was she jealous? Why would she be? Was she interested in him? He looked over at her, so focused on whatever it was she was doing on her laptop.

  “Ready to work so soon?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “Coffee first. And then breakfast. Have you eaten yet?”

  “I had some yogurt.”

  He poured a cup of coffee. “Yogurt? That’s it?”

  “It’s enough for me.”

  He laughed. “No, it’s not. How about some bacon and eggs and pancakes? Maybe some biscuits and gravy?”

  She finally drew her attention away from her laptop and looked at him. “Hammond’s not here. He said he had errands to run.”

  “I told you I know how to cook.”

  She gave him the once-over. “Maybe I should cook.”

  He laughed. “I think you’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Really. I’m good. The yogurt was fine.”

  “It’s not fine. And I need to eat anyway. I need fuel for the day, and breakfast should be your biggest meal.”

  “Uh, no thanks, really. I’m good.”

  “Come with me. You can sit with me and drink your coffee while I’m cooking.”

  She seemed to agree with that, following him into the kitchen and taking a seat at the island.

  He pulled out several skillets. “I’ll make extra, just in case you change your mind.” She looked like she could use some calories, like she’d lost some weight since the last time he’d seen her.

  “What are you working on over there?” he asked as he put bacon in the pan, then cracked eggs in a bowl.

  “Just the outline for our program together.”

  Deciding against pancakes, he took out bread and popped some in the toaster. “Okay. So what’s the plan?”

  “It can wait until after breakfast.”

  “Do you like orange juice?”

  “What?”

  “Orange juice. Do you like it?”

  “Oh. Yes, I do. Why?”

  He opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. “I also have carrot juice, apple juice, and cranberry juice. What would you prefer?”

  “Um . . . orange juice is fine.”

  He poured two glasses, then flipped the bacon over and got out two plates.

  “Really, Trevor, I’m not hungry.”

  He slid a smile her way. “No one said you had to eat.”

  He finished the bacon, then put the eggs in the pan. In a couple of minutes, they were scrambled perfectly. He split them onto two plates and slid one in her direction. Not paying attention to her, he pulled up a chair at the breakfast bar and started eating.

  It didn’t take her long to push her laptop to the side, grab the fork he’d laid on the plate, and dive into the food.

  Never underestimate the power of the smell of bacon. She ate at least half of what he’d put on her plate, which he’d call a success.

  When she finished, she pushed the plate to the side. “That was really good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re a good cook, Trevor.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “This surprises you?”

  “I don’t know why it should. You’re good at so many things.”

  He shot her a grin. “Darlin’, you don’t know the half of it.”

  She rolled her eyes and slid off the bar stool. “I’ll do the dishes.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You’re a guest.” He got up and took her plate, and his, to the sink, rinsed them, and loaded them in the dishwasher. Then he washed the skillet.

  “You’re just on your best behavior because I’m here, right?” she asked as she once again took her seat at the breakfast bar.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “First you cook, then you do dishes, too?”

  He stacked the skillet on the dish rack, then grabbed the towel to dry his hands. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “This isn’t the Trevor I know.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  She studied him. “Maybe I don’t.”

  “Good. Then you’ll have a lot of questions to ask for your super feature story on me, won’t you?”

  She laughed. “I guess I will. Which, now that breakfast is over, we should get started on.”

  “Sure. Let’s spread out a little. The breakfast bar isn’t comfortable. Where would you like to go?”

  Haven looked around, trying to decide where to set up. “Uh, living room.” Trevor would likely be more at ease, more at home there, and more amenable to answering her initial questions. Plus it seemed a little more formal than the sunroom.

  “That’ll work.”

  He took a seat in one of the leather chairs, while Haven spread out on the sofa, her notes an
d laptop in front of her.

  “So how’s this going to work?” he asked.

  “I’m going to start by asking some background questions, just a few things we’ll fill in on the narrative side of the equation. After we’re through with all the background story, we’ll start filming.”

  “Which will consist of?”

  “You at work. And at home. Where you grew up, where you went to high school and college, plus some of you at leisure activities. People want to know about you—who Trevor Shay the person is, as well as the athlete. I’ve looked into some of the charities you sponsor. I’d like to showcase those.”

  “I’d like that, too.”

  “Then we’re set.”

  “Do I get to interview you, too?” he asked.

  “Ha-ha. And no. You already know all there is to know about me.”

  “Do I?”

  “Sure. We’ve known each other since college.”

  “We’ve been around each other, Haven. But do we know each other all that well?”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Look. If you knew everything there was to know about me, you could write the background without needing to interview me, right? But you can’t, because while we went to college together, we didn’t really hang out, did we?”

  “No, we definitely didn’t.”

  “And it’s not like we’ve spent a lot of time around each other. We know each other because of your mom and dad. We’ve hung out some, but you don’t really know me all that well. And I don’t know you, either.”

  “Do you know everyone who interviews you?”

  “No. But you’re the daughter of someone I greatly admired. Someone I thought of as a mentor. You’re not just a random interviewer. You’re someone I’d like to get to know better.”

  She didn’t understand why he was interested. Or why it even mattered. “You’re certainly playing a different tune now than you did in college. You couldn’t wait to get away from me then.”

  He dipped his head, then gave her a very sexy smile. “In college it was different. I wasn’t much for learning back then. The only thing I was interested in was the ball—either football or baseball. I wanted to be out on the field playing. Academics got in my way. And you represented academics.”

  “I see.” Not exactly the same way she’d seen it back then. “So you saw me as a way to help you pass your classes so you could stay in school.”

  “Something like that. Why? Was I mean to you?”

  “No. Not at all. You just did everything in your power to avoid studying.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. That really wasn’t my thing.”

  “So I noticed. Unfortunately, charm could only take you so far, Trevor. At some point you had to get a passing grade.”

  “And you helped with that. So thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Though I don’t know that I really helped, since you managed to elude most of our study sessions, or rarely paid attention to what I was trying to say.”

  “Hey, I passed, so it sank in. Trust me, you helped.”

  The earnest way he looked at her, the easy smile on his face, and, oh, God, she could get so lost in the sea green of his eyes, how dark and long his lashes were, and his mouth—

  “So . . . where do we start?”

  Haven blinked, and realized she’d been staring at him. He’d done this to her in college, too, making her lose her focus.

  Damn the man anyway. And now he was smiling at her, as if he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on her.

  “Let’s start with your childhood.” At his wary look, she said, “We’ll walk gently through here, and if anything makes you uncomfortable, we’ll stop.”

  She turned on her recorder. Trevor looked down at it. “No.”

  She switched it off. “No?”

  “Not for this part.”

  She didn’t know why, but she wouldn’t ask, at least not yet. “Okay. I’ll just make notes on my laptop. Anything you’re uncomfortable with, we’ll discuss.”

  “Fine.”

  She might be new at this, but she was still a journalist. Her job was to dig and dig deep, even into uncomfortable territory, to make the subject at ease enough with her that he’d divulge secrets he might not otherwise want to delve into.

  She’d do it with Trevor if she had to, but she hoped he’d feel comfortable enough with her that he wouldn’t even notice the probing questions.

  “What was the first organized sport you remember playing, and how old were you?”

  “That’s easy. Soccer. I was five. Though I don’t know if you could call it organized.”

  She laughed. “Yes, I remember. I played, too. My parents referred to it as bunch ball, because we gathered around the ball in a bunch and chased after it.”

  “Yeah, T-ball was a little better. I played that, too. Then Pee Wee league football.”

  She’d started typing in notes. “You liked sports a lot as a kid.”

  “I was a hellion with excess energy. My mom had to keep me busy, so I played sports year round.”

  “Is that what you wanted to do?”

  “I loved playing. And my mom was right. I didn’t like to sit and be quiet. I wasn’t much for quiet time, watching a movie or reading a book. I wanted to be outside running around and doing things.”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I have a brother. He’s younger than me.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “His name is Zane. He’s still in college.”

  “So quite a bit younger than you.”

  “Yeah. He’s my half brother, actually. My parents divorced when I was seven years old. My mom remarried and had Zane.”

  She hadn’t known his parents divorced. So much she didn’t know. She was making copious notes.

  “Are you and Zane close?”

  Trevor grinned. “Yeah. He’s great. So smart. He’s premed, so he’s going to be a doctor. He graduates next spring and then he’ll start medical school. My mom and stepdad are so proud of him. Hell, we all are.”

  “I’m sure she is. Just like she’s very proud of you.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure she is. But you know, sports isn’t medicine. I’m not gonna save someone’s life catching a football or hitting a home run.”

  “I don’t think it’s very fair to compare yourself to your brother’s career choice, though. You’re doing what you love, following where your talents lie. So is your brother.”

  He shrugged. “True enough. Next question.”

  And he glossed over the fact that it obviously bothered him that his brother had chosen an important career path and he for some reason felt his wasn’t.

  “How often do you see your brother?”

  “As often as we can get together.”

  “Where does he go to school?”

  “He’s getting his premed degree at Washington University here in St. Louis, where he’d also like to go to med school. I think, given his grades, it’s a given he’ll stay there.”

  Haven smiled. “How wonderful for him.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, he’s really smart.”

  “I’d like to meet him and interview him.”

  “I’ll see what his schedule looks like and maybe arrange that.”

  “Thanks.”

  She looked over her notes. “Tell me about your dad. What happened after the divorce?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “I don’t want to talk about my dad.”

  “You and your father aren’t close?”

  “I love my mom. My stepdad is an awesome guy and stepped in when my father wasn’t around, which was most of my childhood. He’s the real dad in my life. Let’s just leave my father out of this whole process.”

  She put the laptop to the side. “Okay. Off the record, tell me about your dad.”

  He stood. “Not now. Let’s take a break. How about a swim before it gets too hot and before I have to leave for the ballp
ark?”

  She looked up at him. “Trevor, we’ve just started and there’s a lot of material to go over.”

  He came over to her and grabbed her hand and tugged her up. “And plenty of time to get there. Come on, a quick swim and we’ll get back to work. Life is meant to be lived, Haven. Let’s have some fun.”

  She hesitated, then finally nodded, figuring if she kept him happy, he’d be more amenable to answering her questions—even the tough ones. “Okay, but only a short break.”

  AN HOUR LATER, TREVOR TREADED WATER IN THE DEEP end while he watched Haven sitting on the pool steps in the shallows. Her elbows rested on the edge of the pool and her face was tilted up toward the sun. She looked . . . relaxed, which was exactly how he wanted her.

  This morning was going well. She’d dived into the questions, seemingly into her work, which had been the goal. Unfortunately, it had been him who’d put a stop to everything when she’d brought up his dad.

  He couldn’t go there. Not right now, and never on the record. This break was just what he’d needed to get Haven’s mind on a different track. Plus, she seemed to be having a good time. Or at least, she didn’t seem down.

  “How can you ever go to work when you have a backyard like this?” she asked, tilting her face up to meet the sun. “If I lived here, I think I’d live in the pool. Plus, it’s heated, so you can swim in here until at least the end of October, depending on the weather.”

  “Yeah, it’s really nice. That’s why I bought the place. It’ll see me through to the championship, provided we make it that far.”

  “And what do you think of the Rivers’ chances this year?” she asked.

  “Pretty damn good. After all, they have me.”

  She laughed. He swam toward her and pulled up a spot on the ledge next to her. “So you think you could get used to a decadent lifestyle, huh?”

  She slid her sunglasses on top of her head. “What can I say? I’m easily swayed.”

  “I don’t believe that. You were always so driven in college. You of the dual degrees and all.”

  The look of surprise on her face made him smile.

  “How did you know that? You barely paid attention to me.”

  “Maybe I do know more about you than you know about me.”

  “Seriously. How did you know that?”