by Lyssa Layne
Evan’s hand moves to my cheek, stroking it gently as he looks in my eyes. “Cami, if I sleep with you, I will never sleep with another woman.”
Evan
Camila’s body goes rigid against mine, but it’s true. Cami and I connect, we get each other. She doesn’t question my loyalty to my mother although I’m sure she’s heard a completely different side of the story from Blake. She’s seen me at my worse and hasn’t run yet. I want this woman more than anything right now and I don’t just mean sexually.
“Say something.” I laugh nervously, wishing I knew what was going through her mind. But she doesn’t speak. Instead, she leans down and presses her lips against mine. Slowly, I fall back, taking her with me. The excitement that we normally share with our kisses is still there, but this kiss is completely different than any other one we’ve experienced. Our sexual desire is pushed away briefly and on some other level, we’re connecting, giving in to each other, and I’m hoping this is Camila saying she’ll give us a chance.
A knock on the door interrupts us and with one small kiss, Camila sits up, patting my chest. Crawling off me, she walks to the door and peeks her head out. I can hear my brother laughing on the other side and he asks, “What the hell happened to your hair?”
Camila’s hand touches the hair knot that’s half up and half down. Stammering, she ignores his question when she answers. “What do you want?”
“Who’s in there, Cam? Gregg’s in K.C. so who are you hooking up with?” Blake asks again, not dropping the topic. I sit up, part of me thinking I should hide while the other half of me wants to throw open the door and punch him in the face.
“I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes. Goodbye,” she says, slamming the door and turning around, leaning against it.
I ball up my fists, clenching my jaw as I speak. “What the fuck? I can’t be seen with you at the draft, but Blake can? You’re right, Cami, we need to just end this now.”
The cool, calm, confident Camila walks across the room to where I’m still sitting on the bed. Her dainty hands grip my shoulders and she gives me a shake. “You can’t expect me to say yes and immediately change everything. Starting tonight, my hell week of work begins so let me get through that and once I survive, we’ll start off with a weekend trip to somewhere tropical.”
I scoff and shake my head. “So what? You can hide us out of the country?”
Camila’s fingers move under my chin, making me look up at her. “Baby steps, Evan. I’m going to be exhausted and beyond stressed when I get back to the room tonight so you better be ready to help me relax.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Relax? What did you have in mind?” My sex drive takes over my thinking.
“Well, a nice hot bath then crawling in bed with you…naked. Then I’ll let you take it from there. I want this, I want you, Evan, but it’s going to take time for us to figure everything out.”
I nod and Camila kisses me softly before turning to walk away. Still within my arm span, I reach out and slap her ass. “Fine, but don’t expect to get any sleep.”
Laughing, she goes to the bathroom and comes out ten minutes later, her hair and make-up perfect. I’m leaning against the headboard, watching T.V. when she walks out. She shrugs on a navy blazer and sits on the edge of the bed to put on her heels. I kiss her neck, nibbling on her ear, and evoking the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. She turns her head to kiss me and I slide her hand over my cock.
“See what you do to me?” I mumble against her lips.
Camila’s hand tightens around my engorged erection and she whispers, “I’ll take care of it when I get back.”
She grins as she stands up and I pout like a little kid not getting his way, but I know in time, sooner rather than later, she’ll be mine, all mine. Once the door clicks shut, I jump in the shower to relieve myself. I don’t want to ruin our first time together because of a premature release.
Taking my time, I get ready, fully dressed in the only suit I own, the same one I’ve had since high school. I’m much more muscular now than I was back then and I can hear the thread stretching as I pull it over my arms. Camila and I can shop for a new one, she has impeccable taste. I grin at that thought, Camila and I and not just as agent and client, but as a couple.
Joining the hundreds of potential football players, their families, coaches, owners, managers, and a handful of fans that snuck in, I make my rounds of the room, not letting Camila out of my sight. Blake is at her side all night, his hand constantly in touch with her body. The two appear to be the picture perfect couple. Anger boils in the pit of my stomach and I force myself to look away.
I slam my drink and stare at the bottom of my glass. Instantly, I feel like my mother. Drinking to push away something bad, letting the alcohol cloud my judgment. I look across the room and Camila’s eyes are locked on me. When our eyes meet, she gives me a wink before turning back to the group of people around her. A smile comes to my lips, without even talking, Cami knew I needed her. I slide the glass across the bar. If she wanted Blake, she would’ve been with him by now. I have nothing to worry about, she’s mine, or will be soon.
It’s after midnight and there’s still plenty more action going on, but I’m not going to torture myself watching Camila and Blake. Instead, I head back to our room to get ready for her return. An hour later, there are rose petals scattered around the bathroom floor along with some fu-fu bubble bath the front desk sent up. I’ve got champagne chilling in an ice bucket and now I’m just hanging out on the bed, flipping channels, nodding my head and trying not to doze off.
I’m watching the Magic Bullet infomercial for the second time when her laptop dings. Glancing at it on the desk, I walk over, fully planning on closing it so we aren’t interrupted later. My hand on the lid, I look at the screen and see my name in the subject line of an email from the Seawolves. Clicking it open, I skim through it, seeing their offer.
What the hell? That’s not a fuckin’ offer, that’s an insult. I had over a hundred tackles last season, including four sacks. Another email catches my attention and I see it’s from the Lancers. Fuck that, I’m not moving to Chicago. I quickly read through that one, shocked at their offer. My blood pressure boils and I’m wide awake now.
Pacing back and forth, I stare at the clock, ready for Camila to walk through the door. It’s after three when she does. She opens the door quietly, probably thinking I’m asleep. She throws her jacket on the back of the chair and slips out of her heels, but she doesn’t stop. I stop walking and watch as she shimmies out of her pants and pulls her shirt over her head. She stands before me in a black thong and strapless bra. My cock twitches at her body, but I ignore it, more focused on the shitty offers she failed to mention to me.
Camila’s grin is huge as she waltzes across the room to me. Her arms slide around my neck and she draws me down, capturing my lips with hers. She grinds her hips against me and my fuckin’ dick won’t stop moving. It doesn’t take her long to realize I’m not kissing back and she pulls away, slightly frowning.
“What’s wrong? You too tired?” she asks, her bottom lip looking delicious as she pouts.
“When were you going to tell me about the offers?” I do my best to sound calm, but my hands are shaking from the adrenaline pumping through me.
Camila takes a step back, clearly shaken and she knows she’s been busted. “What were you doing going through my email?”
“You left your computer open and when I went to close it, I saw my name. I have the right to read about myself. Now, why the hell didn’t you tell me and why does Chicago want me so bad? I’m not fuckin’ moving, Cami.” All trace of staying calm is gone and I’m on the verge of yelling.
“They just came in this afternoon and I haven’t responded. I plan on working through negotiations next week so there’s no reason to get upset yet,” Camila yells back at me, her arms flailing and her perky tits bouncing in her bra. My erection is a total traitor right now and I have to push away the urge to throw her down on
the bed in a fit of pissed off sex right now, although I think we’d both enjoy it.
“What’s the deal with Chicago?”
“Chicago’s a great team. It’s definitely an option to look into, I wouldn’t throw them out yet.”
And it clicks. Even at the Super Bowl, Camila was shoving the Lancers down my throat. I scoff. “So that’s your plan to get rid of me? Send me two-thousand miles away so you don’t have to date me? You’re a fuckin’ tease, Camila. That’s all you fuckin’ are. You aren’t the best in the field, you’re the sexiest and the easiest lay.”
Camila’s shoulders drop and she doesn’t say anything. I pull on my clothes from earlier, grab my wallet and my phone and march out of the room. I don’t fucking need Camila Lemos. Women are nothing but a headache.
CHAPTER 12
Evan
Stupid Tom Petty plays through the speakers of Blake’s Cadillac Escalade. I hate this song, but then again ever since the NFL draft a couple weeks ago, I pretty much hate everything. I know I overreacted, Blake’s told me a dozen times that I did. That it’s how the NFL works and I need to get used to it, that I’m being a fuckin’ baby and that Camila will work it all out.
Yeah, I’m pissed that my own team lowballed me and that some team in the middle of the U.S. where it snows regularly during games wants me, but honestly, more than anything, I’m just pissed that Camila didn’t tell me about the offers upfront. I don’t know what kind of relationship we had, or were about to, but I’m not down with one that’s doesn’t lay it all out, telling the truth like it is. That’s why I walked out, that’s why I said fuck it when everything I really wanted was standing right before me.
Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, trying to block out the folksy tune and Blake’s awful singing. A few more miles down the road and I can’t handle it anymore.
“Blake, shut the fuck up!” I yell, glaring in his direction.
Of course, Blake grins and continues singing. Once the song ends, he punches me in the thigh. “What’s your problem?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to punch him back. It’s been a couple months since I’ve really spent any one-on-one time with my brother and I’m thinking this trip to L.A. over Memorial Day weekend probably isn’t the best idea. Blake jabs me again and I grab his fist, crushing it with all my might. Blake tightens his jaw before finally giving in and pulling his hand away.
“Dude, what the hell is your problem? You not getting any?” he asks, rubbing his knuckles while we sit at a stoplight.
“Gettin’ plenty,” I mumble and it’s the truth. Ever since I walked out on Camila in her underwear, I’ve banged any woman that’s been willing. Too bad I haven’t been able to get the last memory of Camila out of my mind while I’m with them.
Blake chuckles. “Yeah, seems like it.”
Linking my fingers together, I crack my knuckles, letting his comment slide. “What about you? You getting laid?”
His cocky grin gets even bigger. “Don’t worry about me, little brother, I’m taken care of.”
The vein in my forehead pulses, but I scoff. “Of course you are. I bet Camila is a good fuck,” I say, not even trying to hide my disdain.
Blake glances over at me, his smile gone. “Whatever, man, I’m not going to tell you again, I’m not sleeping with her. What’s your deal with her anyway? Why do you care who she sleeps with?”
I turn my gaze out the window, staring at the cars passing by on the freeway. “She can do whoever she wants, I don’t give two shits about her. She’s just an easy lay who uses her sensuality to get ahead in the business.” The words come out of my mouth even though I don’t really believe them.
Blake sneers. “Sure, if you want to think that, fine. Camila’s the best damn agent out there. She doesn’t treat her clients like an investment like some of the assholes, she treats them like family. She’ll bend over backward for any of us, including you.” I can tell from the tone of his voice that he honestly believes every word he’s saying.
Internally, I fight the smile that wants to come across my face thinking about Camila bent over backward, but hey, I’m sure she does that often. I wonder how many clients she’s really slept with. Blake finally shuts up and we drive in silence. Quickly, I go down her list of clients, mentally making a list of who I think she’s been with.
A mile down the road and the list I’ve created is pissing me off. Blake’s phone rings out a different Tom Petty song than the one on the radio. I’m tempted to throw the fuckin’ thing out the window, but before I am able to get my window rolled down, Blake answers. Guess it’s his lucky day.
“Hello…Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, Camila… Are you alright?” At the sound of her name, I lean forward, elbows on my knees and stare at Blake. I can make out her muffled voice on the other end of Blake’s phone, but my heart is pounding in my ears, making it impossible to clearly hear her words.
After what feels like an eternity, Blake speaks into the phone again. “Okay, Cam, I’m a couple exits away. I’ll be there in a few, just stay calm.”
Camila responds, her voice still sounding hysterical, and then Blake simply hangs up. He puts on the blinker, glances over his shoulder, and crosses into the other lane without saying a word. I’m staring at him, waiting for him to say something, anything. My pulse is still racing, wondering about what kind of danger Camila is in.
When he exits the freeway, still not having said a word, I explode. “What the hell is going on? Is Cami in trouble?” My voice booms through the SUV, finally drowning out the awful radio station Blake has it tuned to.
My brother doesn’t even flinch at my voice or my words. No, instead the asshole stares ahead at the road, a smug look taking over his face and pissing me off even more. I ball my hands into fist to hide the shaking and reach for my own phone. If Blake won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just find out myself. My finger hovering over her phone number, Blake chuckles before he speaks.
“Thought you didn’t give two shits about her?” he asks, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face.
“Is she okay?” I repeat, not in the mood to play his game.
The Escalade pulls up in front of a beach house and if I wasn’t about to lose my mind not knowing if Camila is in trouble or not, I would’ve recognized the house in front of me. Instead, my leg starts bouncing and I’m about to crawl out of my skin. My finger lowers, almost on the call icon when Blake cuts the engine.
“She’s fine, freaking out because the James’ dog got out. You gonna help me look for the beast?”
I fall back in the seat, relieved the drama is over a missing dog and nothing happened to Camila. My heart beats erratically, still trying to go back to its normal rhythm. The last time this kind of fear crept over me was when I found my mother’s front door open and I was certain that I’d find her dead inside.
Holding out my hand, I shake my head. “Give me the keys, I’m going to the hotel.”
Blake drops the keychain in my palm, shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself, but don’t deny that you’re attracted to Camila Lemos. You do a shitty job trying to hide it.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, climbing out of the SUV and walking around to the driver’s side.
Blake’s waiting for me with the door open. Avoiding eye contact, I try to slide by him, but he pats my chest as I step into the Escalade. “Trust her and everything will work out fine.”
I roll my eyes, trust is the last thing I want to with her. I put the key in the engine and start the car. When I reach for the door to close it, Blake is still standing in the way. “She won’t sleep with you, Evan, get it out of your mind. She’s hot, you want a piece of it, but once you accept that you’re just her client then it’ll make things so much easier.”
I sweep my arm, pushing him out of the way and yanking the door shut. Maybe she was never going to sleep with me at all that night. Maybe I’m just an idiot for falling for her…
Camila
“Blake, we have to find that dog! Toby will be crushed if anything happens to him,” I explain, not even trying to hide the panic in my voice as I pace back and forth across the James’ deck.
Blake grips my shoulders and gives me a firm shake. “We’ll find him, Cam, don’t worry. What direction did Shadow take off in?”
I point down the beach and Blake leads the way. Both of us calling loudly for the feisty black lab. I try to block the images of how Mia and Toby will react if that dog isn’t home when they get back in town. Mia and the kids are in New York for Tate’s series against the Aces and asked me to dog sit. I said no problem, thinking I would be able to enjoy a few runs along the beach with the pup. It was a great idea until his leash snapped while he barked at a passing lab and took off, darting in between houses. I chased after him for twenty minutes before calling for reinforcement.
An hour later, I stop yelling, my voice hoarse and sore. My shoulders drop and in my mind, I’m crafting exactly how I’ll explain this to Shadow’s family. Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks, making my vision blurry, but ahead of me, I swear I see a black dog and a large man jogging toward me. Wiping my eyes, I recognize the view in front of me is actually Shadow and Blake. I take off, sprinting toward them and dropping to my knees in the sand when I reach the two of them.
“Oh, Shadow, where have you been?” I scratch behind his ears while he gives me happy kisses, covering my cheeks with dog slobber.
Blake points behind him. “He found himself a girlfriend, cute little chocolate lab down there.”
I look up at Blake who is bare chested, his shirt thrown over his shoulder and sweat glistening down his body. Jumping up, I hug him quickly. “Thank you so much for finding him.”
Blake shrugs, acting as though it’s nothing, but I know he loves being the hero. Once upon a time, I enjoyed it too and he was handsomely rewarded for his acts of heroism. These days, he gets a hug, dinner, and that’s it, a compromise that we’re both happy with.
