The Hot Corner (12 page)

He shrugged. “It’s the lifestyle. The wives and girlfriends—they know what they’re getting and most turn a blind eye to it, as long as it doesn’t come too close to home. Cody has a girlfriend in just about every city we go to.”

“And you?”

“I have girls I can call, but nobody I’m committed to, and they know it.”

“You and Brad are two peas in a pod.” And, of course, I was out with the not-nearly-as-good-looking pea. Lucky me.

“You’d think so, but not really. Brad’s more selective. I guess when you’ve had the best, present company included, you don’t like to settle.”

Brad had certainly had had the best, and I wasn’t talking about me. “Still, you hit clubs and bars together?”

“Sometimes. Brad puts baseball first, so he doesn’t go out as often as some of us, and when he does, it’s usually not for long.” Probably because he finds someone and takes her home. “More often than not, he goes back to his room alone.” Okay, maybe not. Lance sipped his beer. “And he stopped doing anything with us these past few months.”

“Did he?” Well, I guess when you have Pamela Baxter to hook up with, why mess with easy bar girls?

“I figured he was just banging Pam, but he didn’t go out in Glendale either, and she wasn’t there.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s finally pussied out.”

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?”

He grinned and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. “I can be charming. I just figured it was wasted on you and you’d want me to be real. Want me to turn it on?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I just wanted to get through this and go back to my hotel and forget it ever happened. Lance was a moron.

“Anyway, it wasn’t until you showed up that he started hooking up again, as far as I know.” He grinned at me. “Wonder why that is?”

Because he was punishing me for . . . I still didn’t know what. “I don’t really care what he does.” It was a bald-faced lie, as right now I was wondering if Pam was going to change her mind and go to bed with him anyway. I didn’t think she would, but I knew how easy it was to forget oneself around Bradley Reynolds.

“If you say so,” he said. “Any other information you’d like to pump me for, since you don’t want to pump me in a much more interesting way?”

I might as well get something from this date. “What’s Brad like as a teammate?”

Lance smirked. “He’s the best. He’s the first one in and the last one out. He expects the best from all of us, and he’ll call out someone he sees loafing.” He shrugged. “He gets to, because he works hard and everybody knows it. He’s the captain, the leader, and everybody listens to him.”

“Do you think he expects more out of himself than he does out of you?”

He laughed. “Hell yeah. He’s a perfectionist. You just know he’s pissed right now because he had such a shitty day. He’s probably at home studying game tape as we speak.”

No, he most certainly wasn’t. “Is that what you do when you have a shitty game?”

“Nah. I just put it out of my mind, chill in front of the TV, or enjoy the company of a pretty girl. He takes shit to heart way more than I do.”

“You’re pretty laid back,” I said, and he nodded. “Do you two ever butt heads?”

“Other than over you?”

I sighed.

“Nah,” he said. “It’s not worth it. If Brad’s pissed at my play, I’ll let him yell it out and go on with my life. He treats every game like the playoffs, whereas I know we have plenty of them left and one loss isn’t going to kill us.”

“One hundred and sixty-one more to go,” I murmured.

“Exactly. But Brad always wants to be better. He’ll be in the Hall of Fame one day because that’s what he wants. He’s got the drive and the talent.”

“Do you like him?” I asked, because I honestly wasn’t sure.

“Depends on the day. Today? Not so much, because the beautiful woman sitting across from me is all about him. When he hits a grand slam on opening day? I like him lots. He’s a teammate on the field and a competitor off the field, and I wouldn’t beat him either place. It could give a guy a complex, if the guy could be bothered.”

“So you’re jealous.”

“Sometimes. Other times I’m glad the spotlight doesn’t shine so bright on me. Even if he wanted to have a girl in every city, he couldn’t, because his picture gets splashed around so much. Nobody knows what, or who, I do.” He took out his phone and it looked like he was sending a text.

“Lucky you.” Dinner had finally arrived, and once again my appetite was shot but I dug into my lasagna anyway. I had to eat something today.

“Looks that way.” He grinned at his phone. “Listen, do you mind if we wrap this up? Something’s come up.”

I knew exactly what had come up, and I pushed my plate aside. “Are you at least going to take me to my hotel, or do I need to call a cab?” Again. I had about had it with baseball players and it had been only a week.

“Sure, I’ll drop you off.” Before I could get out any money, he threw a bill on the table. “I got this. Least I could do, since I’m cutting the night short.”

“A man has his needs,” I said, shaking my head as we made our way outside.

“Hey, I’d be happy to cancel my alternate plans if you wanted to . . .” He chuckled. The fed-up expression on my face must have amused him. “Right. Okay then. But you’re missing out.”

“I have no doubt about it.” I got into his car and rubbed my forehead. I was getting a headache, probably because I still hadn’t eaten. Room service was in order.

Lance got me to my hotel in one piece and even offered to walk me to my room, but I wasn’t about to keep him from his booty call any longer than I already had. At least I’d gotten some information I could use, so the night wasn’t a total waste. I ordered a burger from room service before I even bothered to kick off my shoes. Then I sat down to type up my notes.

According to Lance Green, Brad was quiet and withdrawn when he first joined the Dodgers. Perhaps that was when he found out his father was sick. I need to get the timing on his illness, when Brad knew, and how he coped, which of course means we need to talk again. I wish he’d write his own damn story.

What was the turnaround that made him hook up with the unattainable Mary? And then treat her like crap the next day? The Brad I knew wouldn’t have done that.

Lance also says Brad hasn’t been his usual slutty self lately. Pam would know why. I’ll have to ask her. And him. Why does it feel like there are about twenty different Brads? People are complex, I admit, but I need to find out who he is now. Will he let me in? Will I let him let me in?

There was the million-dollar question. I didn’t know if I could survive round two with him, but I didn’t know how I would write this book without getting closer to him either.

Blessedly, the knock on my door meant I could stop thinking and start eating. I saved my notes and closed my laptop before answering the door and stopping in my tracks. It wasn’t my food, but damned if I wasn’t hungry for the sight before me anyway.

Bradley Reynolds stood there in the same outfit I’d seen him leaving the stadium in, with the addition of a black leather jacket. Yum. But not what I needed.

“What are you doing here?”

He stepped inside and shut the door. “Where is he?”

Chapter 11

Brad stormed around my room, peering in the closet and even under the bed.

“Green! Get out here and let me kick your ass like a man!”

“What in the hell are you doing? He’s not here.”

Brad shot me a look and opened the balcony door. Fine. I’d let him hunt for his teammate. Another knock on my door had him storming back inside, but I opened it before he could start yelling at the poor delivery guy. I grabbed my food and shoved some money at him before slamming the door and glaring at Brad as the scent of my burger hit me and sent my stomach grumbling.

“Are you through making an ass out of yourself? Can you kindly leave so I can finally eat?” He’d already cost me two meals today—or talking about him had, at least—and I wasn’t going to sleep without eating something.

Brad ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room again. “I thought you had dinner with Green.”

“You thought a lot more than that, apparently,” I said. Screw it. I carried my burger and fries over to the desk and sat down to eat.

“Well, of course I did. The fucker texted me and made it pretty clear things were going well. Wait a minute, is that why you didn’t eat? You were too busy screwing Green to eat dinner?”

I turned and stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You, of all people, are here accusing me of sleeping around? Pot, meet kettle.” I pointed one of my fries at him. “Just because you and your teammates like to screw anything that moves doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that.”

“
I
don’t.
He
does. Look at what he sent me, damn it.”

He shoved his phone in front of my face and pulled up a text.

She tastes as good as she looks.

Well, hell.

“He’s obviously talking about someone else. That was after he dropped me off.” I munched on my fries and pondered him for a moment. “But even if he had been talking about me, what business is it of yours? Weren’t you out with Pam?”

Brad made himself comfortable and sat on my bed. I was not going to think about the things we used to do in a bed. No, I was not.

“I was, but I left early.”

Good. “Sounds like both our evenings were a washout.”

He leaned over and took one of my fries while I glared at him. “Why aren’t you with him, anyway?”

I threw up my hands. “First you freak out because you think I’m with him, and now you’re wondering why I’m not? What in the hell is going on with you?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned and stole another fry. “Pam kept going on about how good you looked tonight and how some man had his hands all over you at the spa, making you moan.”

I giggled before taking a big bite of my burger. She’d been true to her word, but instead of driving him crazy with her beauty, she’d used me instead. I kind of liked that. And Scott had had magic hands. I was sure his boyfriend appreciated them.

“She said you’d relaxed for the first time in weeks, and all you needed was to get laid to top off the night.”

I just about choked on my burger when I laughed and had to grab some water to wash everything down. Brad reached over and patted my back and I shrugged away from him. I didn’t need him touching me when I was only a foot away from my bed and he was already on it.

“Then what?” I asked when I could talk again.

“Then I had to get the hell out of there. So I left and was headed . . .” He laughed. “Here. I was already on my way here when I got that prick’s text.”

“Wonder who he was talking about,” I said, smacking his hand when he stole another of my fries. “Get your own dinner.”

“I like yours better.” He grinned, and I let him take another. “I don’t know who he was talking about, but as long as it isn’t you, I don’t care.”

They shouldn’t have, but his words made me feel good. “Why were you headed here?”

His hot green gaze burned into me. “Lance isn’t a good guy, and you’re . . . you. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

I snorted and pushed my plate away, turning the desk chair to face him fully. “So, what, you’re here to protect me? You do realize I’m twenty-seven years old and have been taking care of myself quite well for the past decade?”

He sneered. “Not from guys like him, you haven’t.”

I stood and pointed at him. “You are a guy like him! You’re one and the same, from what he said, only you score the hotter chicks. Bully for you, Brad.”

Just because we’d dated years ago didn’t give him the right to protect me now. He’d hurt me way worse than some manslut teammate of his ever could.

He stood, and I hated the way he towered over me when I didn’t have my heels on. He had a good eight inches on me.

“I don’t know what he said, but we’re nothing alike.”

“Oh yeah? He blew me off tonight to go out with someone who’d put out, and you blew me off on Monday night to go out with some model! That’s so very different, isn’t it?” I shouted.

“Yes, it is!” Great, now he was yelling, too, and getting right in my face, looking furious. “I only went out with her because you agreed to a date with Green! And I didn’t sleep with her.”

I shoved him but he didn’t budge, which just made him more of an asshole. “And you made a date with your fuck buddy tonight because you wanted to talk about the weather? You must think I’m still the same naïve teenager that fell for your shit years ago!”

He made a sound between a grunt and a growl. “I made a date with her because I couldn’t sit at home all night thinking about you with him and wondering what you were doing! I wasn’t going to sleep with her either!”

“And I’m supposed to believe that? You two get together whenever you have the urge to scratch an itch, and Pam sure thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Then she misinterpreted the situation.” He grabbed my arms and shook me lightly. “I haven’t been with Pam in months. I haven’t been with anyone in months, and it’s all your fucking fault!”