Brody leaned against a pillar, his legs crossed casually at the ankles as he sipped bourbon from a tumbler. “Oh? I didn’t know your dad played. Where at? What position?”
Damn, the man could wear a suit. Navy, with a crisp white shirt and a red pocket square. One corner of my lips lifted. “Yeah, my dad was a linebacker, too. Billy Costello.”
I watched as the wheels turned in his head and he put two and two together. The way his eyes widened to ridiculous proportions and all traces of cool Brody vanished.
Then he proceeded to fanboy all up in my face. “Holy shit. Your dad was Billy Costello?”
I nodded, sipped my champagne. “The one and only.”
I hadn’t been surprised he didn’t realize. It had been going on two decades since my mom married Dick. The media made plenty out of it, at the time, but as the talk and speculation about Costello’s widow marrying his former team’s GM slipped out of the media, people tended to forget those little nuggets.
“Seriously? Billy Costello revolutionized the position! Linebacking changed forever because of the way your dad played. I learned so much just watching his films and studying his form, his nose for the ball. I can’t believe I didn’t know he was your dad, Lily, I’m... This...”
Brody gestured wildly with both hands splashing the rest of his bourbon over the rim, on the floor. “Oh, shit. Did I get you?” His cheeks turned pink as he sputtered before trying to pull it together.
It was completely endearing. Honest. Guileless.
Dangerous.
There were plenty of men in the world I’d fantasized about—Jason Momoa, Dean Winchester, the UPS dude that always made fuck-me eyes when he delivered packages at the Unruly Dog—yet, Brody Shaw... He ticked all my boxes in a way no one else ever had.
Even Trey hadn’t done that.
Which meant the man was too damn good to be true.
Me: G’nite, Brody.
Brody: Night, Lily
I got up the following morning to another text.
Brody: Woke up at 2am with this new growth against my side. Don’t think the ex-pen is going to hold her. P.S. She snores. Loud. :P
Below, was a picture of CC curled into a ball against his torso. His very muscled, mostly naked torso. To his credit, it appeared he’d tried to cover up with the sheet, but CC had stolen a good portion of his covers. She’d also pushed him to the edge of the bed.
Sweet Jesus. Was there anything better to look at than a hot, half-naked man cuddling his dog?
I hadn’t expected the ex-pen to hold CC if she wanted to get out—it was only four feet high—but seeing her snuggled into Brody like that? They were going to be just fine.
Brody Shaw had finally found a woman he could commit to.
Chapter Five
Boners in public are sooo fourteen-year-old me.
Brody
Spring was my favorite time of year in the Metroplex. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. In April, it was still cool enough to run outside. Soon enough, life would revolve around workouts, my diet, OTAs—Organized Team Activities, or unofficial training camps—and two-a-days.
Sitting in damp grass, I stretched my hamstrings while I waited on my running partner.
Sun warming my face, my eyes slid closed. It was like Lily’s ass had been tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. Dear God, those khaki pants of hers had been screaming pull me off, Brody. Pull me off!
I would have moved out of the doorway if she’d asked me to, but, goddamn, did she rise to the challenge.
I had, too. When her hand brushed over my semi, I went full hard-on and had to trap my dick in the waistband of my shorts.
There was so much more to Lily than her appearance. She was confident and smart, commanding even. She’d never been intimidated to talk to me or tell me her opinion because she was afraid I might disagree.
Instead, she met me head-on and shot straight. Something I truly appreciated.
“Brody. My man.”
I rolled my lids open with effort. “Hmm.”
“Are we running, or are you going to continue to sit here and think about whoever is giving you that semi?” Once upon a time, Hayes Walker was one of the best tight ends in football. Unfortunately, this was a young man’s sport.
I’d rounded thirty this year myself. I felt it in every bone of my body, too. Even before I’d dislocated my shoulder last year, I was in so much pain, I was having cortisone injections in that shoulder right and left.
But Hayes had a few years on me...
He was a great sounding board, and an even better player. But midway through last season, the organization moved him back on the roster to make way for a younger version. The stats didn’t lie. He wouldn’t be getting his starting spot back.
Hands on his hips, he proceeded to give me shit. “Now, don’t get me wrong, bro. I’d much rather plop my ass in the grass next to you and see who can get the biggest hard-on, but we really oughtta go for that run, don’t you think? Plus, we both know I’d win.” He stuck out a hand and helped pull me off the ground.
“Dude, you killed my wood the minute you said you eyeballed my dick.” We took off, feet padding the ground at a pace comfortable for talking.
Hayes squinted into the sun. “The trail is a little over three miles. Howsabout we take it easy. My hamstring has been bugging me.”
I nodded my agreement.
“So, you going to tell me who you were thinking about? Not sure I’ve ever seen you that way before.” Hayes’s side-eye was accompanied by an asshole grin.
“What way?”
“You were thinking about a woman you obviously haven’t fucked, but you want to.”
“How do you know I haven’t nailed her already?”
“If you have, and you’re sitting on the ground with a hard-on like a park perv, then I’d be even more worried. Once you hit that, you don’t backtrack. Not that I blame you. Andra was a piece of work. I’d go strictly hit-it-and-quit-it too after someone like that.”
Sweat crept down my back as our feet struck the crushed granite path and the day warmed.
Andra.
Most people—including Hayes—seemed to think that Andra had broken my heart and I’d never recovered. That wasn’t it at all. I don’t think I ever really loved her. I think deep down part of me knew Andra wanted a lifestyle, not a partnership. She wanted me to let her run wild with my black card and live in a penthouse downtown. She’d slipped right under my radar. That’s why I didn’t do relationships anymore. Because she was someone I thought I could love who’d played me like a damn fiddle. I brushed away the thoughts.