The Baller Read online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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“It’s going to be impossible to avoid him. I scouted the nearest ice-cream shops. There’s a Baskin Robbins one block to the east and a Scoops about four blocks to the west.”

“Thanks.” I chuckled.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You have to promise not to get pissed at me.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Okay . . . ”

“You believed Brody that he didn’t cheat on you, but you don’t believe that he is over Willow?”

It didn’t make sense, but for some reason, that was what I believed. “Yes.”

“Have you wondered why you believe him about one thing, but not the other?”

Even though I had pretty much done nothing but think about everything that had happened the last few days, if I was being honest, I actually hadn’t questioned why I would trust him about one thing, yet not the other. “I guess it’s because I feel like he can control his desires, but he can’t control his heart.”

“But how do you know his heart still loves her?”

The question seemed ridiculous to me. “He loved her and lost her. Why wouldn’t he still love her?”

Indie reached over and took my hand. “Sweetie. Are you talking about Brody and Willow or are you talking about you and Drew?”

Michael and Indie chatted away during dinner. There were six of us from WMBC having a business meeting at the hotel’s steakhouse, although we really hadn’t talked much business at all. I tried in earnest to enjoy myself, but a perpetual state of glum followed me around like a shadow I couldn’t outrun.

“What’s your thinking on it, Delilah?” Marvin Clapman was the head of the station's engineering division. He was one of the few remaining employees who’d been there since the station was founded forty years ago. Having worked his way up from equipment repairman, he was now responsible for everything from the microphones working to the feed making it to the television in the viewer’s living room. And he was staring at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Um, I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”

His eyes narrowed. “The Pro Bowl. Is it better for the station that they keep it during the bi-week between playoffs and the Super Bowl? Or should it come after, so the players from the two teams in the Bowl that were selected can go?”

“Oh. I think it’s better for the station that it stays in the bi-week. People want something to watch during that off week, so the advertising is prime. But it’s better for the players for it to be after.”

Luckily, Aileen Fisher, one of Marvin’s department heads, jumped into the conversation, so I was off the hot seat. I tipped my head back as I downed the last of my wine and looked through the bottom of the glass. There was a commotion near the front of the restaurant. My stomach sank at seeing familiar faces. Familiar player faces.

The entire restaurant paused their dinner to watch the hostess seat them. Even if they weren’t famous football players, the sight would still have caused a hush. Six extraordinary large men dressed in suits, one louder than the other. I breathed an enormous sigh of relief at not finding Brody amongst the crowd. Until I saw that the party of six was being seated at a table for eight, with two empty chairs.

If I was distracted before, I was totally useless as I stared at the door, waiting to see who would fill the vacant seats. Indie was sitting diagonally across from me, and her eyes took in my panic.

I knew the minute he walked in the door. I had been looking down at my cell phone in my lap, desperately trying anything to keep distracted, when a faint murmur began. The sound grew as the men made their way into the restaurant. Brody was with the offensive-line coach.

He didn’t see me at first, but I couldn’t look away. He looked sad, tired even, his normally cocky smile nowhere to be found. It opened a crack in me, and I was suddenly nervous that a wave of emotions would smash that crack open wide, and I wouldn’t be able to control myself sitting in the restaurant.

Halfway to his table, he stopped. I watched his eyes roam the room, searching for something. Since the day I’d met Brody, I’d felt him before I could see him. It seemed impossible, so I thought it was just my crazy romantic heart playing tricks on me. But when his eyes landed on mine, I knew I wasn’t crazy. He had felt me in the room and searched for me.

Our gazes locked. The impact of seeing the hurt in his dimmed green eyes was like a direct blow to the chest. I felt as though someone had kicked my chest open with a steel-toed boot and reached in and gripped my heart in their hand.


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