Blindsided: A Sports Romance Read online

  “It is. Rose, you’d really be helping me out if you joined me for a drink.”

  I laugh. “Nice try. But I can’t just leave the desk in the middle of my shift.”

  “But how else am I going to prove my point?”

  “What point?” But I don’t really need to ask. His words from earlier are already burned into my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever forget them. It’s okay, though: we’re chatting on the phone. It’s all good. We’re not flirting. I’m providing excellent customer service, just like all those handouts from corporate HR tell me I should.

  “You know what I mean,” he says in a low voice that’s just a shade away from an animalistic growl.

  That’s it. That’s me. I’m like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. It’s too late to stop myself. This isn’t just an innocent chat on the phone.

  “You see, Rose?” Jake says, after I’ve been stunned into silence for several moments. “We’re losing you. You need sustenance.”

  I laugh. “I can’t just walk away,” I squeal, earning me another filthy look from Luca, even though he’s just extracted a hefty tip from an elderly couple visiting from out of town. I want to run after them and tell them that he’s only recommended that restaurant because he gets a kickback for every guest he sends there. “And I don’t think going to a bar with you counts as sustenance.”

  “Dinner then,” he says, quick as a flash.

  “I can’t leave my desk,” I say, less convinced this time.

  Because what’s the harm? I can go for a drink with him and remain professional. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date. And this isn’t a date. It’s just a chat.

  “I’ll come to you, then.”

  Oh shit. I picture Marcus coming down from his office on the club floor and catching one of his front desk staff sweeping out the main door with a guest. I know he wouldn’t be impressed by that.

  “No.”

  “Oh come on. I’m bored here.”

  I shake my head. “We have cable and movies on demand. And a selection of games,” I say, almost on autopilot.

  He sounds shocked. “I don’t want to sit here and watch TV, Rose. No, I’m coming down. I’ll keep you company.”

  I groaned and rub my temples, but there’s no denying the grin on my face. “No, don’t do that. I’ve got a break coming up in a half hour. I’ll meet you outside. There’s a little bar down the street.”

  “Perfect,” he says and hangs up.

  I’m left staring at the phone, wondering what in the hell just happened.

  Jake

  I bounce off the bed and walk to the bathroom, grinning. I don’t even know why I called her. I just wanted to hear her voice. But it worked out well.

  Now I have a half hour to kill before I see her. Believe it or not, I’m nervous. My body’s been thrumming with energy since I hung up the phone.

  The Rocket Room is my first thought. It’s dark and intimate—the perfect first date environment. But the bartender is a fan so that rules it out. It’s rare to meet a girl who doesn’t know who I am. I don’t want him to give the game away by coming over and talking shop.

  Predo? Fantasia? One by one, I mentally cross off my favorite places. I can’t take her to any of my usual haunts, but fuck it I don’t care. I’m suddenly fed up of my usual haunts.

  I walk back to the living room and flip open the hotel book. This isn’t the kind of place where they have a plastic binder with clear folders of crumpled restaurant menus. In a way, I wish it was. I miss places like that. It’s not like I could afford this hotel if I was paying for it myself, not with the arrangement I’ve got with the team to pay back my debts. I haul the thick book onto my lap and flick through it. It’s all artsy photographs taken by a celebrity photographer. I slam it shut again. Would Rose like any of those places?

  What does she do in her spare time? Where does she live? With roommates or alone? I shake my head. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but she makes me think too much. I don’t usually give it much thought. Pick a girl. Take her to a VIP club. Bring her back to a hotel room—preferably not my own. I don’t know why this is different, but it is.

  ***

  I watch her flip through the thick, dog-eared menu. She chose this place two blocks from the hotel because she only has a half hour break and they do the best pastrami sandwiches around.

  “You ready?” she asks, closing her menu and drumming her fingers on the table.

  “Not yet.” I shake my head and open my menu. I’ve been too busy studying her to read the damn thing.

  She watches me. “Too low-rent for you?”

  If only she knew the truth. I want to laugh but I just shake my head instead.

  “You sure? I thought a big fancy businessman like you would be used to places like Albacore and The Grill Room.”

  I look up at her in surprise. “I’m not a big fancy businessman,” I say before I can stop myself.

  I can tell from her expression that she doesn’t believe me. It’s like I’m watching it happen in slow motion—I know what she’s going to ask me before the words come out of her mouth, but my mind can’t come up with an answer in time. In fact, it feels like somebody has removed my brain and replaced it with Jell-O—that’s the effect she has on me.

  “You’ve just been saving your whole life to stay in that room?” she says, eyebrow raised. “It’s three thousand a night.”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m staying there for… uh… work.”

  Damn it, if my mind worked a quarter as fast as my body does, then it might have been okay. But it doesn’t. Especially not when I’m sitting this close to a woman with killer curves and the brains to match.

  And then there it is. The one question I should have prepared for. The one thing I didn’t think about even though I’ve decided to be somebody else.

  “So what do you do?”

  I force myself to look at her even though I’m mentally casting around like a fisherman at sunset who needs that goddamn catch. I’ve got nothing. The seconds tick past and her eyes narrow a fraction. I’m making her suspicious—at least my silence is. What the hell do I say? It’s too soon. I don’t want to discuss this yet. I want to see where this might go for us.

  “I’m a hotel inspector,” I blurt.

  I almost clap myself on the back. As lies go, it’s a pretty goddamn stupid one. But compared to the other answers I could have given her? It’s a master-stroke. Who’s gonna question some guy who says he’s a hotel inspector? Now, if I’d said I was a spy, on the other hand, that could have blown back up in my face.

  “Oh,” she says, nodding slowly. “You’re spending a long time at the hotel. And in the penthouse too… I thought you guys try to act normal so the staff have no idea who you are. Plus, you just told me who you were.”

  Looks like I spoke too soon. Shit, I struggle to even remember all of those questions, let alone come up with answers.

  “Uh, yeah,” I shrug, stalling for time. “Well, that really depends on hotel management. They’re the ones who hire us. They make the rules.”

  “So what are you doing? Pretending to go to business meetings and hanging around the city until you come back?”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m working on a couple of assignments right now. I’ve been visiting the other properties.”

  Shit, I didn’t think about this. Now I’m digging myself in further and further.

  “Oh.” She thinks about it. “So what have you found out so far?”

  I lock my eyes on hers and pretend I’m thinking. “Well, it’s very early in the process. But one thing has jumped out at me.”

  “What’s that?”

  I lean in as if I’m about to share a juicy secret. She comes closer, meeting me in the middle of the table where our menus lie pretty much forgotten.

  “The receptionist,” I whisper. “Is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She hides her reaction well, but I see it. I see the quirk of her lips and
the slight widening of her eyes. I notice the way her chest rises and falls under her uniform. I sit back, thinking this is going to be easier than I thought.

  And then she raises an eyebrow. And the balance of power changes. I thought I was in control, but maybe I’m not.

  That wasn’t in the gameplan.

  Chapter 3

  Jake

  The sight of her sends a rush of blood straight to my cock. I wink. Even from several feet away I can see the effect I have on her. I want to rush over there and pick her up. I want to carry her back to my room. I shake my head in disbelief. She’s all I can think about, even though today of all days I seriously need to concentrate. There’s too much at stake not to.

  And just as I have that thought and the elevator door opens on my private floor, my phone buzzes. I don’t need to unlock the screen to see that it’s her—I can tell from the tone. I’ve set up my phone to play the Imperial March from Star Wars when she calls or texts. It seemed funny in the beginning. Now it’s so appropriate it’s scary.

  I also don’t have to look at the screen to see what she’s texting me about. I already know.

  Fuck, I think, as I throw myself down onto the bed. I do not need this shit today.

  I need to fix this, but I can’t think of a way to do that without messing up everything I’ve worked for. There is no nice easy solution; not like in the movies where good intentions mean everything. I’m in serious shit if the league finds out.

  When I was a kid, my dad spent several hours outside with me practicing my catches. It didn’t matter that he’d just spent twelve hours on his feet on an assembly line. He wanted me to be the best I could be. And that meant practicing every day. Rain or shine. How can I let her fuck that all up? Just because what, she wants a piece of the action?

  No.

  I won’t.

  An image of Rose floats into my head. I couldn’t think about my other problems even if I wanted to. It’s like she’s some sort of angel, distracting me from everything else in the world.

  Before I can change my mind, I roll over and grab the phone.

  “Hello, Mr. Thorne, how can I help you today?”

  “Actually, I was looking for reception.”

  “But you know you don’t need to do that. I’m here to cater to your every need, Mr. Thorne. What can I help you with today?”

  I can picture the sleazy smile. I see it a lot. If only these people knew that I don’t see a cent of my salary. And I won’t for a long time.

  “You know what? I want to get a female opinion on something. I’d sure appreciate it if you could put me through to the receptionist.”

  He sighs. A couple of seconds later I hear her voice.

  “Mr. Thorne. This is the front desk.”

  “How do you put up with that guy?”

  She laughs. “How can I help you today, Mr. Thorne? My colleague mentioned that you were in need of a female opinion?”

  “Yeah. You know what? It’s actually an emergency at this point.”

  “What is?”

  “My…” I scan the room. “My drapes. They won’t open. I need your help.”

  She snorts with laughter. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I’m worried, Rose. If I wind up with a vitamin D deficiency, then I’ll have no choice but to sue the hotel. And what then? When you could have avoided this whole problem?”

  She clears her throat but I can still hear the smile in her voice when she answers. “And you’ve tried them yourself?”

  “No. No, I don’t think I could do that. Please, Rose. I need your help. Save me.”

  “Yes, I think you’ve made the right choice. Magnolias might be a little too old-fashioned. Yes, that’s no problem. You have a good day, Mr. Thorne.”

  ***

  I’m still staring bewildered at the phone when there’s a gentle tap at the door.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Rose smiles, almost shyly. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you trapped up here all by yourself with no light.”

  I grin and stand aside so she can come in. She does, even though she seems hesitant to enter my domain. “What was that about magnolias? You lost me there.”

  “My colleague was doing his best to listen in on our conversation.”

  “I’d kill him if he said anything to you.”

  She shakes her head and flashes me a grin. “Thanks, but I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”

  “Well, hey. I’m here if you need me.”

  Rose stares into my eyes and her breath hitches.

  “So how’d you get away?” I ask, to distract myself from the urge to grab her and pull her to me.

  I need to take it slowly with her—don’t ask me how I know that. I might have been full on with her before, but things have shifted between us. That first day I saw her? That was macho bullshit. This? I don’t know what it is, but I want to win it. Whatever the cost.

  “I said I needed to go to the bathroom.”

  “What, in my private elevator?” I grin, edging further and further into her personal space. I feel like some kind of predator, but I’m barely conscious of it. It’s like it’s instinctive; the need to get close to her before she runs away.

  She rolls her eyes. “No, of course not. No, I went downstairs to the staff area and took the elevator from there.”

  “Oh. Why lie?”

  She winces.

  “Sorry, did I say—”

  “No,” she says, waving her hand. “No, it’s nothing. It’s dumb. I guess I…”

  She trails off, staring up at me in silence.

  “So…” she whispers.

  “So.”

  I stare at her face. I hadn’t seen the smattering of freckles that run across her cheeks and nose. I smile. I’ve always had a thing for freckles. Her top lip quivers. I glance down. Once I focus on her lips, I find I can’t look away. They’re full and plump, especially her bottom lip.

  I dip my head. Our faces are only inches apart now. I lean forward and kiss her, brushing my lips against hers. They’re as soft as they look. Soft and sweet-scented.

  She gasps, eyes widening. She pulls away and bites her lip. It looks like an unconscious movement, but the effect it has on me is instant and deadly. I pull her to me, circling her waist with my hands. My kisses aren’t feather-light this time. Her lips part and I explore her hot mouth with my tongue, only barely maintaining control over my urge to throw her down on my bed.

  We have plenty of time. There’s no sense in rushing—I want to savor her.

  “I can’t,” she gasps, pulling away. “I’ve got to get back.”

  So much for having plenty of time. “Oh, come on, Cinderella. Stay a while?”

  She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me to her. But then she freezes again.

  “No, I really need to get back there. Geri is covering for me.”

  “It’s good experience for Geri. Multi-tasking. Prioritizing.”

  She laughs. “You’re so full of shit. The poor girl will be run off her feet.” She walks toward the door.

  “Meet me tonight? Dinner? You can choose the place.”

  “I’m working until midnight.” She looks disappointed.

  I shrug. “Tomorrow.”

  She sighs. “I can’t. I’ve made plans with a girlfriend.”

  “The day after? The day after that? Sunday two weeks from now? I’m very flexible.”

  “The day after tomorrow sounds good,” she grins.

  Rose

  I wake with a smile on my face and Jake still in my mind as if I was dreaming about him all night. I can’t believe the effect this stranger is having on me.

  But there’s no time to loll around in bed and daydream—regardless of the unfamiliar heat that’s surging through my core. There’s cereal to be poured and untidy clothes to be straightened.

  I push myself out of bed, promising myself that I can take a long steamy shower once Sam has left for school. I’m working the late shift today, so I’m not d
ue at work until midday. That’s plenty of time to work out my frustrations over Mr. Thorne. Because there’s no way I’m going to allow myself to go to work in this pent-up state—otherwise I know I’ll do something I’ll end up regretting.

  I squeeze my eyes closed. Why is it that even the thought of him sends my mind to places it shouldn’t be going? Like his body. I don’t usually imagine male guests naked. And it wasn’t like he was wearing anything remarkable—just jeans and a shirt. So why can’t I stop thinking about those strong shoulders and wondering how ripped his abs are?

  The sound of explosions coming from the living room soon wakes me up. It’s almost time for school. We need to move.

  “Hey, little man. How are you doing today? Come on. It’s your first week back. We don’t want to be late.”

  Sam grunts at me from the couch where he’s totally engrossed in whatever shooting game he’s into right now. Luckily he and his friends share, because there’s no way I’d be able to sustain his videogame habit otherwise.

  “What did we say about playing videogames before school?” I try to make my voice sound stern, but I just know he sees through it. I don’t care if it’s sappy: I love the little guy with all my heart and I don’t like stopping him doing what he wants.

  And then I think back eight years. If only there had been somebody there to discipline my headstrong self. But no. No. Then I might not have had Sam.

  “Sam,” I say again. “Put down the videogame.”

  “It’s not a videogame, Mom,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s War of Centuries.”

  “Which is a videogame, right?” I turn and shuffle to the kitchen to make his breakfast.

  “Nobody calls it that anymore. Well, only old people. Like Miss Kincaid. And you.”

  Well that’s me told, then. I guess when I was eight, twenty-four seemed absolutely ancient.

  “C’mon, kiddo. What did I tell you? Switch that… thingummy off and come eat breakfast. You’ll be late for school.”

  “I’ve already eaten,” he says, casting a guilty look over his shoulder before returning his attention to the TV screen.