“You’ll have to talk to Coach about that.” He pointed at someone else.
The next guy asked, “What about Cassian?”
“What about him?” Xander looked almost menacing.
“Will his latest scandal impact his ability to lead the team?”
“As long as he’s winning games, who cares what he does? He can have all the threesomes he wants.”
The betrayal rocketed through him. Cassian didn’t need to hear anything else. He punched the power button off. “Jesus.” His own teammate had just confirmed tabloid gossip.
“Yeah. That’s your backup. Nothing to do about it, but it’s good to know who he is.”
“He’s full of shit. He was there. He knows it didn’t happen.”
“Of course he does, and that’s the point. He’s shown his true colors. None of us will forget it.”
And with six simple words, Dean managed to snap everything back into perspective. His other teammates had his back. Always. “He thinks he’s making me look bad, but no one likes a traitor. He really messed up.”
“He’s just trying to get onto the field.”
“Even if he makes it, his teammates are going to hate him.” Cassian didn’t think the comment would do more damage, but it’d fan the flames. “Listen, thanks for the heads-up. I’m going to head downstairs, meet up with the others.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yep. This week I’m all about the tour.” And Gigi. “Talk to you later.” Shoving the phone in his back pocket, he headed out of the room. There were a lot of things in his life right now he couldn’t control, so he’d concentrate on what he could.
As he boarded the elevator, he recalled the others talking about hanging out in the bar, so he’d start there.
The minute he hit the lobby he heard the music. Two voices, a man and a woman. Hard not to recognize the deep baritone of Grant Banner and the powerful, clear-as-a-bell voice of Gigi Cavanaugh. His pulse quickened at the idea of being near her.
Being traded, his teammate’s fuckery…all of his troubles evaporated just knowing she was right there.
Tonight, he’d talk to her. Apologize.
Explain.
The thought galvanized him.
Standing at the back of the packed, noisy bar, he saw a sea of glowing screens. Countless people held their phones up high to record the famous musicians. Wanting to stay unnoticed, he stood against the wall, off to the side, where he got an unobstructed view.
The yellow lights turned Gigi’s hair gold, and the gentle slope of her bare shoulder made his fingertips tingle. Because he wanted to touch that smooth skin.
He wanted to kiss it, lick a path down to her cleavage.
Too bad she’s staring into the eyes of another man. Someone who made her happy. The longer he watched, though, the more he got the impression they were writing a song together. Right then and there.
The advantage of living in Boston was that he didn’t have to see Gigi with other men. As a Lollipop, her social media was the exact opposite of his. It was curated to show her doing wholesome things like shopping or getting gelato in Italy with her bandmates.
So, the idea of watching a relationship develop between her and the country star on this tour? A jealous beast reared up and exposed its fangs.
“Cassian Ellis, oh, my God.” A petite woman came up to him. She was beautiful. Black hair, dark eyes. With a hand on his forearm for balance, she got up on her toes, shouting over the music. “I heard you were staying here, and I drove right over. Trust me, we never get this much excitement in our town.”
His gaze flicked back to Gigi. He really wanted to hear her sing. “Yeah?”
“I can’t believe you’re standing here right now. Is this a dream? I want to pinch myself.” She settled back down. “Can I buy you a drink?”
He felt it—the impulse to turn on the charm, chat her up—and he was damn glad Amie had pointed it out to him, because he didn’t want to do that anymore.
“I was going to tell my friends to come with me tonight, but then I thought, Why would I do that, when I could spend time alone with you?”
He liked to think he was a good guy, only hooking up with women he’d never see again. Which meant women like this one, someone he met on the road or in a bar.
Since no one saw him with the same woman twice, people called him a playboy. But, really, he just didn’t date. Not only because he didn’t want to mislead anyone, but because he’d given his heart away long ago, and he knew to the bottom of his soul there was no other woman in the world for him.
Which consigned him to a life of partying and meaningless sexual encounters.
But, yeah, he got it. How he turned a friendly encounter into something that hinted of more. And it was time to cut it out. In this situation, he was representing the Mavericks—not looking to get laid.
It was time to start writing his own headlines, instead of letting the paparazzi do it for him.
“So, what do you say?” The perky woman had so much hope in her eyes. “Get a drink?”
He glanced at Gigi—shit. She’d clocked him. Some of her enthusiasm for the song had dimmed, and determination whipped through him.
Just like in high school, he wanted to be a better man for her. He would be. Starting right now. “That sounds like a nice idea, but I’m pretty beat. I just came down to check on tomorrow’s itinerary.”
“Oh, sure. I saw the pictures from today. The penguins? That was amazing.” She caressed his bare forearm. “I think it’s great that you take time out to do something like this. It means so much to the kids.”
On another night, he’d have welcomed the invitation in her touch. He’d have hung out with her while she had a drink or two and then taken her upstairs for an hour of fun. But tonight…it wasn’t going to happen. “It means a lot to me to spend time with them.”
“I’m a nurse. Pediatric, so I know what it means to those kids to get a visit from someone special like you.”
The music stopped, and while the crowd clapped and encouraged them to play another song, Gigi focused on fitting her guitar back into its case. From this angle, he could see her profile, see how unhappy she’d become.
I’m going to change that. “Hey, listen. It was nice to meet you.” He gave a polite smile as Gigi made her way out of the bar.
And Cassian followed.
“Wait up.”
Gigi ignored him. She’d tried. She really had. To ignore him at dinner, pretend he was a stranger. To be the mature woman her parents expected of her. To put the tour, the patients, first.
But watching Cassian flirt with every nurse, server, staffer…and now to witness him choosing his hookup for the night?
No. Just no.
She quickened her pace, hoping to catch the elevator before the doors closed.
I’m sorry, but I’m obviously not over him.
No, I’m not over what he did to me.
Except…the lines were blurred, and she couldn’t see the difference between the two.
“Can you please hold the elevator?”
An older man’s hand reached out, keeping the doors from shutting.
“Thank you.” She slid inside, standing her guitar on end and nodding to the elderly couple who looked like they might not be speaking to each other.