And that was absolutely unacceptable and very, very aggravating.
“Well. Shall we get to it, then?”
That smirky-boyish smile became a full-on smirk as he wrinkled his brow at me. “Get to what, exactly?”
“The tour. Of the stadium. And then I have to get to my meeting with Walter.”
“Right. Walter…?”
“Lipnick. I’m supposed to meet him in less than an hour, so…”
He flicked at the scruff on his chin and scrunched up his face, but he seemed amused. “Sure. Walt. Right. You gonna be working here?”
What kind of question is that? “Of course I’m going to work. I’m not just going to be a figurehead.”
“All right. Yeah. Why not? Let me show you around the stadium.”
Two
Decker
Oh man. They don’t build them like this anymore, I thought to myself. I held the door open for her because I was old school and a gentleman. But also because the front car was so sweet, I wanted to get a look at the caboose.
I never said I was perfect.
But her ass was.
Good God.
I figured this must be Walt’s new secretary.
Wait—they’re called executive assistants now, right?
Nah.
This chick was a secretary. Her hair up in that bun and the business skirt that wrapped her tight like a sexy Mad Men–era secretary made me want to put on a suit and drink scotch.
She turned to look at me, and I deftly looked ahead with a completely relaxed face, like I wasn’t just devouring her behind with my eyes. A less clutch man would have given it away. Would have stammered or blushed. But I’ve won Super Bowls, motherfuckers. I could have pretended I didn’t just stare at her and dream of unwrapping that tightly wrapped corporate gift basket.
“Right this way.” I’d give her that tour of the building. Would a multimillion dollar MVP quarterback usually give the new executive assistant a tour of the stadium?
No.
But new executive assistants didn’t usually look like this.
Or smell that good.
Or wear a tight skirt and heels to a stadium.
And she was not an executive assistant.
She’s a naughty, naughty secretary…
I was staring again.
And she saw me staring.
But it was fine.
I coughed into my hand, which confused her—the way I confused playoff-caliber defenses.
I took her to the weight room first. Her head swiveled up and down and around as she took in the massive space. There were dozens and dozens of lifting stations and machines. It was world class.
“Pretty amazing, right?”
“It’s huge,’’ she said, eyes wide.
My brain went somewhere, and my dick began to stir. Down, boy. “Yeah, Jerry—uh, Mr. Strong, the owner—upgraded it around five years ago. State of the art.”
“You knew him well? Jerry Strong?” She was looking at me now, and she was not making small talk. I didn’t know if this woman was capable of making small talk.
“Yeah. Really well.”
She nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say anything. Finally, she took a deep breath and made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “So, how does this all work?”
“Uh…” I scanned the room. “Well, we use these weights and machines to get stronger and…make our muscles bigger.”
The look she gave me did not inspire confidence.
“Isn’t it important for an equipment manager to know the ins and outs of the equipment they manage?”
Ummm. “Yes?” I flashed her a smile. “I know what works and what doesn’t. Here—” I picked up a forty-five-pound dumbbell. “I want strength but not size, so we aim for the six-to-eight rep range.” I curled the dumbbell with my non-throwing arm. I’d already done arms this morning, so this was completely unnecessary. Possibly stupid. Except Hannah was really, really pretty. She had this delicate little cleft in her chin—perfect spot for me to place the tip of my thumb when I tilted her chin up to kiss her. That fact made overworking my non-throwing arm in front of her a good idea. Smart, really.
I got a pretty good pump. Muscles bulged and veins popped. You know—for science. For the tour. I put the weight down. “And we track all that so we’re constantly improving,” I said, slightly out of breath.
She gave a slight nod, her eyes a bit glassy as she stared at my arm. “There is something to be said for…practical knowledge.”
I grinned.
Yeah. That was definitely a good idea.
She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from my outstanding bicep to look me in the eye. “You’re allowed to use the workout equipment?”
“Uh…yeah. They let me pretty much have the run of the place,” I offered with a smile.
“Seems like a liability,” she murmured while looking around.
Okay. Very pretty. A little weird.
“Pretty impressive place though, right?”
“I suppose.” She folded her arms in front of her chest and looked up. I got a good long look at that neck. I liked it. I liked the way she blew air through her puffy lips. I had no idea why she was contemplating the ceiling, but I was fine with it. “I don’t know why these ceilings are so high. Seems like the heating and cooling bills would be through the roof.”
I barked out a laugh. She looked at me like I was the weird one.
“Through the…roof.” I pointed up, but her look did not in any way soften. Guess she wasn’t being funny. My bad.
She let out a big sigh. “Just seems really expensive.”
“I think we can afford it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Oh no. Very pretty. But possibly a little crazy.
“What’s next on the tour?” she asked.
We made our way to the auditorium where we watched game film. There was a big screen at the end of it, a podium off to the side of the stage, and row after row of comfortable seats.
“This here is the film room,” I said, motioning with my hand as we stood at the very top of the auditorium space.
“I see.” She touched the tip of her index finger to that cleft on her chin, nodding thoughtfully. “I suppose you watch a lot of action movies here. War movies, maybe?”
Oh man, was that cute. I couldn’t help the smile, and my mouth made a few false starts before I could actually speak. “It’s for studying game film.”
“Oh.” Her porcelain cheeks turned the most adorable shade of pink, though she tried to remain steely. Yeah, I was back to considering asking her out at the end of this tour. Sure she had strong opinions about HVAC systems, but that wasn’t a deal breaker. “Does the whole team meet here, or is it broken down by position?”
I was impressed by her recovery and by her question.
“Both. We meet as a team, but also positional meetings can take place here.”
“I see. To study the past games to fix mistakes,” she said, gaining her confidence back.
“Exactly.”
“So where do all the fraction backs sit?” She seemed really pleased by her use of the term fraction backs.
“Fraction backs?”