The Player Next Door (21 page)

That was the plan, and he was giddy the day he finally waited in baggage claim, a dozen red roses in his arms and a Knicks jersey for her dad. His plan was simple: show her so good a time that she was open to relocating to out here. Maybe NYU needed a visiting professor or something. At least she could think about taking her sabbatical with him. Something. Anything. But it started with saying the words he’d held back for too long: I love you. I love you, please help me find a way for us to be together.

Hell, he’d even play for the Bulls if they’d take him.

Jesus, where was she? He was well known here, and as much as he’d tried to keep it quiet, there were already reporters “hanging out” in baggage claim. Some weren’t even trying to be subtle, and he’d already given “no comment” to the few who asked who was getting the roses.

Damn it, he was getting nervous. This was like dropping Tori into the middle of a firestorm. The second he handed her the roses, she’d be swept up in the media whirlwind.

Come on. Come on. It was bad enough the flight had been delayed out of Chicago. He’d been waiting hours. Where—

He saw her. Blonde, slender, and beautiful. She seemed to light up the world. He was so happy to see her that he didn’t at first register that she wasn’t smiling. And she wasn’t with her father.

Holy shit, what the hell was Edward doing here? And with his hand lying possessively on her lower back?

She saw him as soon as they topped the escalator. At least her reaction was just what he’d been imagining. Her face lit up with a huge grin and she started to push her way down the escalator, but there was no hope. It was too stuffed with people for her to go anywhere. So he got to just look at her
—
so animated she was bouncing
—
and his heart just swelled. Until Edward grinned and waved too.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Were they back together? They couldn’t be. She hadn’t said anything. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She said they’d had lunch a few times and gotten together for coffee. A movie one night, too. And that it was nice that he finally appreciated her.

God, no. It couldn’t be possible, but the bastard was here and not her father.

She finally made it to the end of the escalator and ran full tilt at him. He tried to present her the roses, but didn’t get the chance. She jumped into his arms
—
well, his free arm
—
and he held her so close that he lifted her off the ground.

He wanted to tell her to be careful. That there was press everywhere, but the words got lost. His mind was a haze of
ToriToriToriTori
. The way she smelled, the feel of her against his body, the way she breathed. Everything about her was right. Especially when she planted her mouth on his and kissed him full out.

Yes! She was finally here.

Sadly, even great kisses had to end, and eventually they separated to realize a dozen flashes had gone off and that Edward was still pushing through the throng. Mike was used to ignoring them, but Tori wasn’t. She shifted uncomfortably in his arms, and he was forced to set her down. But he didn’t let her go until he whispered into her ear.

“Not a word, okay, honey? Not with the press around. I’ve got a limo waiting just outside. Do you have luggage?”

She stilled for a moment and then nodded. He felt the dip of her chin as she squeezed him again just before letting go.

“The roses are for you,” he said. “The jersey’s for your father.”

“They’re beautiful.” Then she looked up into his eyes. “Dad’s got the flu. That’s why he isn’t here.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s a cheap traitor, but I’ll explain later.” Her eyes searched his face. “You shaved off your hair.”

Right. With the game tomorrow, he’d razored everything off this morning. He rubbed his bald head, feeling awkward. “Do you miss it?”

“There’s nothing about you that isn’t wonderful. Hair. No hair. You’re still you.”

God, she made everything in him ease. He would have said more, but Edward was elbowing his way forward, leading with his massive laptop which was slung over his shoulder. The words “big electronics, little dick” flashed through his mind, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Edward was offering his hand and Mike took it gently though he wanted to crush the man
—
hand and all.

“Mike. Why didn’t you tell me you play for the Knicks? I had no idea.”

No shit, idiot. “Edward. What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth, but then hesitated. “Honey, would you mind getting us a cart?” He shrugged off his laptop. “This thing is heavy.”

Tori glanced at him, then back at Mike. He shrugged. Obviously Edward wanted to talk to him alone. So Tori leaned down and grabbed the laptop case before heading toward the carts. Fortunately, Mike was faster. He snagged the case off her slender shoulder and pulled it away.

“You don’t need to carry that,” he said.

“Oh. Thanks,” she said, a soft smile in her eyes.

He’d carry a thousand laptops for that smile. He watched her walk away then, the shift of her hips in those jeans, the tight bottom that fitted so perfectly in his hands. And while his eyes were still on her sweet body, he passed the laptop back to Edward.

“Don’t make a woman half your size carry your shit. What kind of man are you?”

“She’s not half my size—”

“Edward, there are reporters here.” He said that not to warn Edward, but himself. If the man kept talking, he was likely to punch the idiot and that would not please his bosses. And even worse, the press of people had blocked his view of Tori, so he had to shift his full attention to Edward who was awkwardly adjusting the laptop back on his shoulder.

“Okay. Right. Reporters. Look, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Last thing he wanted was Edward’s thanks, but he nodded as they started to move toward the luggage carousel. Sadly, the man didn’t take the hint, but kept talking.

“It happened just as you said it would. The meathead left
—
early
—
and she was right there for me to console. I was worried in the first week. Never seen her so sad. But I got her back into her research. She’s got this new idea about studying sports mythology.” Then he paused and looked back at Mike. “Probably ’cause of you, huh?”

Ya think? And had the dickwad missed that kiss from Tori or was the poor little man wading that deep in denial?

“Anyway, all it took was a few coffees, a cookbook to say I was sorry, and a movie. Simple. You were so right.”

Mike felt his insides hollow out, but he kept his voice even. “So you’re back together?” He didn’t want to believe it. Especially not after that kiss. Meanwhile Edward kept blathering on.

“Do me a favor: play well tomorrow. I’m going to propose at halftime.”

He looked at the bastard. The clueless idiot who was about to win a woman he didn’t deserve. Jesus. “So she never told you who the…the meathead was?”

“Nah. I didn’t let her talk about him too much. Said he was in the past. That she had to think about her future. She’s with me now all because of you.” He punched Mike lightly on the arm as if they were buddies. As if the bastard had a fist larger than a shrunken plum. “I can’t thank you enough. I almost lost her, and now I’m going to marry the girl of my dreams.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet,” Mike grumbled.

“She will,” he spoke with enough confidence that Mike wanted to deck him. Then the guy made it worse. “You were right. I was too cheap with her. So I’ve made up for it with a diamond big enough that even you would marry me.”

Which was all kinds of wrong. Especially since Tori didn’t care about money or diamonds. Unless Mike was wrong. Which was a possibility since the woman of his dreams was apparently about to marry a prick with a big-assed diamond.

“There’s mine!” Tori called from to the side. Damn it, he’d been so absorbed in
not
killing Edward that he’d lost track of her. But there she was, angling her way forward to a suitcase that was so quintessentially her. A ladybug suitcase. Hard case, bright colors, and it made everyone around them smile.

Then she gestured to a mammoth black thing. “I think that’s yours, Edward,” she called.

Good for her. She made no move to grab it for him and when Edward looked at him, he was too busy grabbing Tori’s ladybug to help. Which left Edward to haul his heavy-assed thing off the carousel and look like a weak-muscled pansy. Petty? Sure. But Mike was in no mood to be magnanimous.

Then it was time to turn around and head to the limo. Except, of course, they had to get through the knot of seven journalists all asking the same round of questions:

“Who’s the girl?”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Any thoughts about tomorrow’s game? The Toronto Raptors are looking good.”

Waving them off had become second nature to Mike, but Tori’s eyes were wide as she looked at them, then back at him. Her question was obvious: should we talk?

He shook his head and pushed them through. Sadly, he’d forgotten about Edward. If it was one thing he’d learned early, it was that the man didn’t know when to shut up. Mike had just made it to the electric doors when he heard the douchebag start talking.

“My name’s Edward Burk and that’s my girl Tori. We were lucky enough to meet Mike when he was recovering from his injury in Evanston. We’re good friends and of course we’re especially excited about tonight’s game.”

The game was tomorrow, dickhead. Fortunately, Mike was a big enough man to spin around, shoulder aside two paparazzi, and then grab Edward’s arm. As soon as he latched on, he hauled him bodily forward.

“Not another word,” he said into Edward’s ear.

“But—”

“Shut. Up.”

“My suitcase!”

Oh fuck. The idiot had dropped it. He looked at Tori and pointed to the limo. “Right there. Now.” So much for seeing her face light up when she stepped into the vehicle. He’d made sure to have it stocked with her favorite beer.

Now Edward would get to see that face, but there was no help for it. He’d for damn sure not leave the bastard there to talk to the press. So he shoved Edward toward the car then went back in to reclaim the heavy-as-shit suitcase. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem for him.

He did pause long enough to give a stock phrase to the press. Something about looking forward to showing the fans just how recovered he was from his terrible shoulder injury. The bosses loved it when he said something to draw more people to the game. And since they’d been playing up his dangerous rotator tear, he was doing his bit to support the cause.

But as soon as he could, he ducked away and had to run for the damned limo. Security was waving it on. So much for being a superstar in his hometown. Fortunately, the driver Sammy knew his job. He braked and let Mike climb in, reporters on his heels. Then Mike slammed the car door and looked for Tori.

She was there, looking so pretty with the roses on her lap. Her eyes were sparkling as she held up the beer. It was a microbrew from a guy in Evanston.

“How’d you get this?”

“A credit card and Fed Ex.”

She grinned. He reached forward and popped open the top for her as the limo lurched into traffic.

Edward grabbed a glass. “Tori’s been telling me about her new love of beer. I’m all for trying new things.”

He held out his glass, but Mike ignored him. Tori was already drinking from her bottle, her lips cherry red. He was mesmerized enough to miss his phone ringing, but she heard it and gestured with her beer.

“One of your legions of fans?” she said, grinning. “I knew you were famous, but I’ve never had to dodge the press like that before.”

That was nothing, but he didn’t bother telling her that. Instead, he glanced down at his phone and cursed. “It’s Coach. Your plane was late, and that threw off the schedule.” He’d begged her to come a day earlier, but there was some faculty something or other that she couldn’t get out of. He understood. He really did, but that didn’t make him any happier. And now he had team stuff to do.

“I’m sorry, Mike. You didn’t have to pick us up—”

“The hell I didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve got team stuff this afternoon, and then a media press-the-flesh thing tonight. I got you passes to get in—”

“We’ll be fine,” she interrupted.

Damn it, he didn’t want her to be fine. He wanted her with him. “Tori—”

But she was talking to the driver. “Take Mike wherever he needs to go. Then you can drop us off afterward.”

“You’ll be there tonight, right? Sammy will pick you up.” He wanted to be a dick and “accidentally” forget to add Edward to the guest list, but that was too mean. He wanted to stay friends with her even if nothing else was possible between them. And that meant being nice to the dick who didn’t deserve her.

“Of course,” she said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Edward added.

Mike didn’t curse the bastard out, but he did glance that way. “So how is it that you ended up taking her father’s seat?”

He started to answer, but Tori interrupted. “He paid my father to get sick.”

“What?”

“Damn it!” Edward cried. “He wasn’t supposed to tell.”

Tori rolled her eyes. “Paid him to catch the flu.”

Edward huffed out a disgruntled breath. “Negotiated like his life depended on it. He’s a lot smarter than he looks.”

Tori grimaced. “Dad wouldn’t tell me how much, but
—
”

“I understand,” Mike said, his voice dropping. Not in threat. More like frustration. “Edward wanted to make this a special trip.” Just like Mike had.

It took him about two breaths to get his head on straight. Edward wanted to play big man on the town this weekend? Well he was gonna lose that particular game. This was New York City and Mike was a mega-star here. And Mike wanted to spend it with Tori. “So the media thing ends around ten. I thought afterward you could come by my place. We could talk. Have some beer.”

Tori’s eyes narrowed. Worse, her excited expression slipped. “You have a game tomorrow. Don’t you have curfew or something?”

Oh right.

“And a system?”

The damned system. For the first time in his life, he was considering throwing it away. He could sleep with Tori tonight, and maybe the sex would boost his play. Lots of players claimed…