“Sure thing.” He uncapped the pen, looking to her for guidance on where she wanted him to write his name.
“Here.” She pulled on the hem of her top, as if he’d write across her chest.
But…no, he wasn’t going to do that. Not here, in this context. Not with Gigi on the other side of that wall. So, he pulled her sleeve and scrawled, You’re an amazing person, Heather. Cassian Ellis before closing the pen and handing it back.
“How long are you in town?” she asked.
“Just tonight. We head out in the morning.”
“You guys need a place to eat? I could give you some recommendations.”
“I think the guy who’s running the tour’s got us booked somewhere, but thanks.” He couldn’t even think about spending time with anyone else right now. Gigi was so close—like a scent rising off his skin, like a shadow flickering in his soul. Right there.
And she was everything.
“Well, if you can sneak away. I’ll give you a personal tour of St. Louis.”
“Yeah?” He saw the spark of hope, the way she turned seductive.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you my number.” She leaned over the counter again, snatching a Post-It off a stack, and wrote her digits. “I’m around tonight. So, any time you can slip away, just call me.”
“Cassian?” Amie called.
He shot a look to the entrance. Dammit. What’s she doing here? He’d told her he didn’t want anyone to see them together.
Raising a hand, he waved the Post-It. “Thanks.” And then headed over to his friend, who wore a baseball cap. Cupping her elbow, he led her right back out the door. “I asked you not to come here.”
“I know, but I’ve got the receipts, and you know I like to make the transfers right in front of you. If anything goes wrong, I don’t want to be blamed for it.”
Once outside, he ushered her toward the waiting taxi. “I appreciate that you want things to be above-board, but right now it’s more important that I don’t wind up in the media with you.”
He gestured for her to get back in the idling car.
“Well, hold on a second. I want to talk to you about something.” She grasped his wrist and led him to the bushes at the side of the building. “Look, we’ve been friends a long time.”
Oh, Christ. “You’re not quitting on me, are you?” Not now, when camp was just about to start.
“Of course not. Just listen. When I got kicked off the show, everyone patted me on the shoulder and said stuff like, ‘You’ll land on your feet.’ But you didn’t do that. You sat down and talked to me. Some of what you said hurt, but I really respected you for telling me the truth about why I’d gotten fired and what I needed to do to get back on the show.”
That’s not…what? He hadn’t given her advice on how to get back on it. He’d asked what she wanted out of it, and then brainstormed other things she could do to get the same result.
“And now I want to be a good friend to you and tell you what I’m pretty sure everyone else is afraid to. Cassian, I don’t know what Coach said to you, but if he flew all the way out to Colorado to talk to you, I know it wasn’t good.”
He looked around to see if anyone had spotted him. It didn’t look like it but that didn’t mean much.
“All I know is it wasn’t because of a noise complaint.” She gave him a pointed look. “He obviously doesn’t like the kind of press you’re always getting.”
“Amie, we can talk about his later. I have to get back inside.”
“Just hear me out. You know how some guys can fly under the radar? They do way worse stuff than you, but it never gets out?”
He did, actually. His backup quarterback was the perfect example.
“Well, it’s because you invite that attention. You flirt, you charm. I mean, that nurse back there? She just wanted an autograph, you know? But you turned on all the charm, and now she thinks she has a chance with you.” She scanned his features. “You’re not even aware of it, are you?”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was being nice.” He knew what it felt like to meet someone he admired. He appreciated her excitement and wouldn’t do anything to diminish it.
“Okay, let me put it this way. That nurse was super excited to meet Cassian Ellis, a Mavericks football player, but you turned it into the possibility of hooking up with Cassian, the Bad Boy Quarterback. Do you see what I’m saying?”
He wanted to argue with her, but he couldn’t. That’s exactly what had happened. In fact, he’d seen it. Like flipping a switch, she’d gone from fan to seducer.
This is what Coach is talking about. On this tour, Cassian was a representative of the team. Instead, he’d come off like a friend. Someone to grab a beer with. Or a potential hookup.
“So, okay, I just wanted to put it out there. I think it’ll help keep you out of trouble.”
“I hear what you’re saying. Now, go on to Calamity and make this the best damn summer these kids have ever had. I’ll see you soon.”
After the group dinner, where Gigi completely ignored him by sitting at the opposite end of a long table, Cassian went to his room to make some calls. He checked in with the team’s publicist to see what they were doing about the leaked photograph and with his manager to find out if he’d heard anything about being traded.
His manager was pretty sure they’d never trade their franchise quarterback, that it had just been a ploy to get Cassian to behave, but Cassian didn’t believe it. Coach never said anything he didn’t mean. Besides, the threat had come from the team’s owner. And all Chuck Caswell cared about was football…and winning.
Which meant it was a very real possibility that Cassian would have to start all over again. The idea was…depressing. It took a lot of work to win people over.
There’s nothing I can do about it now.
Tonight, though, there was something he could do. Apologize to Gigi. First, he needed to find her. Grabbing his keycard, he stuffed it in his back pocket and started for the door. His phone vibrated. Dean.
He wanted to ignore it, get to Gigi, but Dean was a man of few words. If he was calling, it mattered. “Yeah?”
“Turn on SportsNews.”
Dammit. “What now?” He snatched the remote off the TV and turned it on. It took him a minute to find the station, but when he did, he found the sportscasters talking about a press conference. “What’s this got to do with me?” Oh, hang on. In a smaller box, he recognized Xander Wilder, his back-up quarterback sitting behind a microphone. “Is he making an announcement? Did he get traded?”
“Give it a second. They keep repeating the interview. Analyzing what he said.”
Dean was right. A moment later the box widened to fill the screen.
“You excited to head to training camp in a few weeks, X-Man?” someone asked.
“You bet.” Xander sat at a long, rectangular table, alongside other players, facing a roomful of reporters. “We’re all excited to get back on the field and win another championship.” He motioned to someone else in the audience.
“Think you’ll get some play time this season?” a reporter asked.