Wrapped Up: A Triple Threat Sports Romance

by Lexi Cross

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in a distant tone.

  “We need to talk,” I said, trying to infuse a sense of urgency into my voice to hopefully wake her out of her little mini-trance.

  “What about?” Her voice started to sound more grounded. Her eyes focused on me clearly.

  “About last night, what else?” I asked.

  “No, not here.” She started to step around her desk. She reached a hand out to take my arm and led me back to the door of her office.

  “What do you mean, not here? You’re the one who fled to work,” I said in a low tone, trying not to let everyone on the floor hear our conversation. I didn’t want to embarrass her.

  “I mean not here. Yes, I’m at work, and if you want to talk business, that’s fine. But our personal issues can be handled after work. Now, I will talk to you tonight,” she insisted.

  “Fine. I’ll be home. It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” I told her, turning to leave. I felt her eyes on me as I walked away from her office and left her standing in front of the office door.

  While I stormed off, I couldn’t help but feel impressed by how stony and professional she could be when she needed to be. I also couldn’t believe she’d turned me away the way she had. It was as if I wasn’t her fiancé, as if we didn’t have to keep up appearances for everyone, even at her office. Especially at work! Any of the company’s employees could have gone to Mr. Scott to tell him what was going on between us.

  I was used to women falling all over me. I was a pro athlete. I was one of the team’s star players. I was Jake Hall, dammit. Women didn’t turn me down or make me feel like I had to wait in line, not for any reason at all. Seeing how her priorities were stacked up made me want her even more.

  I found myself thinking about her all day, from the time I left the office until I realized I had spent most of the day on the couch in front of the TV, wondering if our sex was on her mind all day. When I checked my watch for the millionth time, I realized I’d been checking it pretty regularly all day.

  I couldn’t get her off my mind, and I wasn’t sure why. Normally, sex signaled the end of the road for me. It was usually the only reason I kept someone around, and once it happened, it was time to move on. With Brooke, it had felt right, like it was supposed to happen. It didn’t feel new. It felt like we were just sliding back into old habits, back into a comfortable routine we had abandoned too early.

  I supposed one of the reasons I was making so much out of our arrangement was because she was the one who got away. Brooke Scott was the one I had always wondered about. I had wondered what would have happened if we had stuck together, or if one of us had chosen a different school to stay closer so we could continue to grow.

  I laughed at myself. I was being melodramatic and overly analytical about the whole thing. It was just a business arrangement. I needed a steady girl on my arm for a positive image, and she needed a husband so she could inherit her father’s company. The fact that we had a history should have been making this easier, but it only seemed to be complicating things.

  I decided to take a different approach, though. I wasn’t going to continue trying to woo her into bed. We might have moved too quickly with sex, for her taste anyway. I needed to be subtler with her if I wanted to make our arrangement and budding relationship actually work. I figured instead of forcing her into an awkward confrontation when she got home from work, I would whisk her away to a nice dinner.

  I called ahead and made reservations at a nice, cozy restaurant in the heart of the city. I got up from the couch and started getting ready. The doctors had recommended staying off my feet unless absolutely necessary for the next few weeks, and standing to get myself ready for the evening was definitely painful, but I figured Brooke counted as a necessity.

  I heard the door around the time I expected her to come home.

  “I’m home. What do you want to talk about?” she snapped.

  “Nothing. We’re going to dinner,” I said, greeting her dressed for our surprise date.

  “What?” Anger and confusion ran across her face.

  “Dinner first. Let me do this,” I urged her as a way of countering any protests. I gently guided her back to the door with a hand on her arm.

  “Wait a minute, what’s going on?” she asked, and pulled her arm away from my grip.

  I took a deep breath. “Look, I feel bad for last night. The way you left this morning told me you weren’t ready for things to move forward so fast. I want to make it up to you with dinner. I want to show you I’m not just trying to take advantage of our arrangement to get you into bed. So, let me treat you to dinner.”

  “That’s better,” she said in a gentler tone, but she still kept her distance from me.

  We definitely had some work to do to repair the damage that had been done by our actions the night before. I felt like we needed to go ahead and fully define the nature of our relationship before everything blew up in our faces. If we kept going the way we were right then, that was the fate we were looking at.

  My driver waited for us in front of the house with the back door open. Brooke slid into the car and across the backseat first. I slid in beside her. She sat across from me, an arm on the other door, her face turned towards the window. She rode like that into town and all the way to the restaurant. She only backed off the door as the driver pulled up to the curb and opened her door to let us out.

  “I look like I’m going to a business dinner,” she remarked as I got out of the car behind her.

  “No, you look fine,” I assured her.

  “You’re just saying that so I’ll go along with your date,” she said. I wasn’t sure where the confrontational attitude was coming from, but it presented a welcome challenge.

  “No, I’m saying it because you’re beautiful, and no matter what you wear, you are a model of feminine perfection,” I told her.

  She squeezed my arm. “Not quite as poetic as I remember you being in high school, but that was still pretty good,” she whispered.

  As we approached the door, I caught the flash of a camera. Then, suddenly, a couple of other cameras flashed around us. We weren’t exactly surrounded, but several photographers came out of nowhere. I heard one of them trying to ask questions about what we were doing out together.

  “What is this?” Brooke asked me, repulsed by the scene.

  “News of my injury must have gotten out. Add that to the fact that I called and made reservations, and you’ve got paparazzi waiting to ambush us. I’m sorry. Just stick with me and don’t say anything.” I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the cameras and protectively taking her under my wing.

  I wanted them to get some pictures of her. I wanted there to be some speculation in the papers and tabloids. That was the whole point of having an arrangement to put a steady chick on my arm. But at the same time, I wanted to keep her hidden away from the vultures as much as possible. She was more than just a pretty face, hot legs, and a nice ass.

  If she had been just another woman, I would have thrown my arm around her waist to pose for a few shots. Then again, that was the kind of stunt that had our team in the predicament we were in with the new owner. The images of this new interest, however, would show that I was more serious about her by showing how protective I was being over her. Unfortunately, the paparazzi were a fact of my life that she had to look forward to nearly every time we went out. At least during football season. Or whenever there was additional news surrounding me, like a possibly career-threatening injury.

  Luckily, Brooke seemed like the kind of woman who would rise to the occasion and use the attention for her own benefit as well, showing her father and other important business partners how serious we were and how photogenic she could be.

  We pushed through the crowd gathering around the photographers. I opened the door to the restaurant and held it to let her in before letting it close behind me.

  “Mr. Hall,” a young man said, greeting us as we entered the restauran
t.

  “Yeah, whoever told them we were going to be here…” I started, shaking my head. I was going to suggest that they needed to be fired for tipping off the self-proclaimed reporters outside, but I knew that was a bit much.

  “I understand, and I do apologize.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just one of those annoyances that come with the job, you know? I just hope they got something for their efforts,” I said, putting on a friendly smile as we were shown to our table.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brooke

  Something had changed since the previous night. Jake didn’t seem as physical all of a sudden. He seemed to be taking our arrangement more seriously, and, beyond that, he seemed to be taking us more seriously. I wasn’t sure if it was just the after effects of the sex or if he really was being genuine. When he rushed me out of view of the photographers who stormed us as we entered the restaurant, I definitely noticed the change in his demeanor. He had come to me looking for a girlfriend to impress his boss with a more positive image, and when the time came for someone to notice that image, he moved to protect me from it.

  I figured if I was going to be the wife of a professional football player, I needed to get used to the public life. Still, it was quite a shock to be hounded by photographers and would-be reporters asking questions about who I was, what we were doing, and what was going on with his injury.

  It made me that much more curious about what he wanted to talk to me about. It must have been pretty important to warrant putting us in a situation where we would be hounded by the paparazzi just for trying to have dinner together in a public place.

  “Sorry about that back there,” he apologized once we were seated.

  “No, really, it’s okay,” I told him. “I should have expected it. A little warning would have been nice, but at least now I know for next time.” I couldn’t stay angry at him any longer. He had tried to shield me from the prying eyes and invasive questions. It didn’t quite make up for the mistake we had made or for his showing up at work to try to talk about it, but it was a start.

  The restaurant was a step in the right direction as well. It was very atmospheric and quiet. The dimly lit booths felt very private. It felt like we were the only two people in the restaurant, despite the fact that almost every table had been seated. Jake ordered red wine, and it arrived quickly, taking the rest of the edge off with the first sip. I felt myself relax the rest of the way. And I realized we weren’t talking. I assumed the whole point of our date was to talk about whatever had been so important that he’d felt the need to interrupt me at work that afternoon.

  “So, now that you’ve brought me out to this romantic candlelit restaurant and started working on getting me liquored up with wine, what did you want to talk about tonight?” I ventured to ask him.

  “There’s so much to talk about,” he said thoughtfully, almost distracted by what was on his mind.

  “We have all night, so go ahead,” I assured him.

  “About last night,” he started. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I looked down at my glass as I drank from my wine. I felt embarrassed for the way I had run off, but I still felt like the night before had been a mistake. We definitely shouldn’t have crossed that line, but I couldn’t deny the satisfaction I had received from it.

  “I owe you more than just trying to use our arrangement to get you in bed,” he continued.

  I was torn between telling him that occasional sex was necessary for keeping up appearances and telling him we would have to satisfy our urges a different way, possibly with other people. I didn’t have time for this to turn into us falling in love with each other. I had a company to take over, and he had his own career to think about.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I finally said.

  “No, I do. You’re more than just a business partner, Brooke,” he confessed.

  “I know you probably feel that way right now, but I can’t be more than just a partner in this. This is just supposed to be a business arrangement. Let’s not try to rush into anything else from it, okay?” I took a deep breath after I finished, surprised that I had let myself say all of that.

  He sighed. “You’re right. And speaking of business, I might have hit a snag in my career.”

  “A snag in your career?” I asked. I didn’t like the sound of that. If he didn’t need me for his career, I couldn’t guarantee that he would stick with the marriage plan.

  “Yeah, this injury. It’s possible it could be pretty serious. I’ve got to go back to see the doctors in a few weeks to see how I’m healing. If I’m not making enough progress, I could be out for the rest of the season, maybe even longer.”

  I could see that it really bothered him just to talk about it. I wasn’t sure why he felt comfortable enough to bring it up at dinner like he was, but I was touched that he felt like he could open up to me. Maybe we were more than just business partners, I started to think.

  “You’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him.

  “I’m sure I will be. See, what’s really bugging me is that even if this injury turns out to be nothing, who’s to say the next one won’t be the one, you know? It happens all the time. Guys get injured at the top of their game and they’re out,” he said, and the worry was all over his face. He really was upset by his injury.

  “If you’re worried about it, go ahead and start looking into what you can do for the team off of the field. You have a degree in marketing, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Use that to see what other services you can provide. Find some way you can still work for the team. You’re the total package. You have experience on the field. You have a valuable degree. And you have star power because of your record over the last few years,” I explained to him, watching the expression on his face as he took in my advice.

  “I think I’ll go talk to Coach at the training facility tomorrow and see what I can do while I’m on the bench. I just thought my career would end. You know, you see a lot of these guys end up in sports journalism, and I just couldn’t see myself doing that.”

  “Well, there’s a lot more to it than just playing on the field and reporting on the teams,” I told him. “Teams put a lot of work into creating an image, working with the community, and so many other things. Surely, you can find some way to put that education you got to work for you while still being part of the team.”

  I could tell he really appreciated my advice and business insight. I had been employed by my father’s company for the last ten years, but I could remember the day he started it. I grew up watching everything that went into running the business, and it was pretty much the same with every business, no matter the industry, I was certain.

  We talked more as we ate dinner. He had been vulnerable when he came home from the game with the injury, but that had been a physical kind of vulnerability that threatened his image as the hotshot pro athlete. The vulnerability I was witnessing in him at that moment was deeper and more emotional. He was opening his heart to me and letting me see what was really bothering him.

  Whatever was left of my anger and confusion from the night before had melted away. I was no longer sure of why I had been upset with him for it in the first place. With our emotional connection deepening, it just seemed like an inevitability that we would end up in bed together again before it was all said and done.

  He paid for dinner and walked me out to the car, where his driver waited with the door open for us. We were going to have to work on the perpetual use of his driver every time we left the house, but it was also nice to have someone act as a buffer between us and the few photographers who had waited for us while we were inside the restaurant.

  My heart was melting for him the whole car ride home. I sat next to him and held his strong hand in mine. My heart wasn’t the only thing that was wet. Despite how awful it was for us to be mixing emotions up in our arrangement, I had enjoyed sleeping with him, and I caught
myself wanting him again in the car.

  Once we got to the house, he walked me straight to my room. At my door, our bodies pressed against each other again, and I knew, I just knew, we were about to kiss and start the whole process all over again. My body ached for him. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. He had awakened old emotions inside the restaurant by opening himself to me so fully, with such genuine honesty that I was defenseless against him.

  “I had a good time tonight,” he said in a low tone, heavy with desire and the hint of something deeper, something I wasn’t sure I wasn’t just imagining.

  “I did, too. We should do it again sometime.” I gave him a suggestive smile. I playfully pulled on his suit jacket, holding him in place against me. I pressed my hips against his. I could feel him hardening for me. I wanted him again.

  “We should,” he agreed, taking my face gently in his big, strong hands. He leaned in and delicately kissed me. Our lips pressed together lightly, and he slowly pulled away.