Waiting Game

Brooklyn

 

 

 

DELANEY HAD ME ALL twisted up inside. One minute with the sassy mouth, the next with the shy vulnerability.

Had me so twisted up I hadn’t gotten my dick wet since the first time I’d set eyes on her on the practice field.

The flight home from Jacksonville proved interesting—and torturous. Rafe sat with Peyton on the Crush jet, their lips probably glued together. No fraternizing bullshit right there.

Akoni shared with Bunyan, the two linebackers overflowing their chairs.

Buckley was a nonstarter, so no way was I sitting with him.

Marquis beckoned me over, but I made a beeline toward the women—the Carolina Cougars—and one hottie in particular. Sure, Delaney had shut me down the night before, but I’d told her I was patient. I just left out the part about being a persistent sonuvabitch, too.

I settled down beside her, buckling in, linking my hands over my lap, and my elbow brushed hers on the armrest.

I heard titters all around—Akoni’s deeper ones included.

That fucker.

In fact, my entire team craned their heads backward to get a gander on.

And Coach D, he pretty much rubbernecked this shit. I could probably look forward to a Yoda-style speech next practice about hanging with Delaney, but I did not give a fuck.

All I wanted was to get to know the black-haired beauty so I could find out why she kept going all cold on me.

Her golden cat’s eyes narrowed at me as she hmmphed and shoved up the armrest between us.

I took that as an invitation to slide my shoulder against hers.

Just as quickly Delaney slammed the armrest back down.

The plane took off.

She jutted her chin forward, refusing to look at me, unlike everyone else on the private plane.

“Doin’ all right today?” I dipped my imaginary cowboy hat at her.

“Don’t you give me that Texan charm, Brooks.”

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Yes, I mind if you sit beside me. Can’t you tell?”

I tapped my fingers a few times against the armrest blocking me from her before unbuckling and turning in my seat.

My voice dropped, and I shielded her from the others with my bigger frame. “I upset you in some way?”

Delaney’s throat bobbed, and she lifted eyes that reminded me of a wounded animal. At that vulnerable look—the one that showed raw distrust—I leaned away from her, giving her more space.

When Delaney still looked ready to bolt, I stood up. “Why don’t you take the aisle seat?”

“What?”

“You don’t like being caged in. Swap seats with me.”

She peered straight ahead. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I prefer a window seat, if ya must know.”

She bit down on a small smile and got to her feet. I climbed out, Delaney followed after, and I settled back against the window, only that time I pushed up the armrest and faced her, wrist dangled over my knee.

“I don’t mean to scare you.”

“You don’t.” She huffed.

“Don’t mean to startle you.”

She swallowed visibly again.

“Something you wanna talk about?” I asked, taking in the trembling of her lips, the fast fluttering of her eyelashes.

“I get airsick.”

There was her bravado, but that right there was a damn lie. The woman seemed frightened as fuck about something. Maybe it was why she was always with her girls. Surrounded. Protected.

“You don’t want to be alone with me.”

Her eyes shot to mine. Again the wild-eyed, cornered look. She shook her head infinitesimally.

“Did I do something that made you feel threatened?”

Another head shake.

“Something someone else did to you?” It felt like a hand clutched my heart and squeezed when she paled.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Brooks.”

“If you really want me to move seats I will.”

She took a deep breath. It swelled her chest, but I kept my eyes on her face, willing her to look my way.

“You can stay.”

“Good.” I foraged in my backpack, pulling out bottles of water and the NYT. “Because I’m stuck on the crossword, and I figure you’re smarter than me.”

“The crossword?”

“Yup. So now you gotta school this dumb jock.”

The best sound I’d ever heard was Delaney’s laughter. She turned toward me, accepted a bottle of water, took a pencil, and dipped her head beside mine.

Truth was I was the shit at any crossword, NYT included, but I’d happily play the fool if it put Laney at ease.

Laney.

I liked that.

After completing the crossword, we moved onto word jumbles.

Hell yeah, just like dirty Scrabble. Better than strip Poker.

I tilted the paper toward me. “I got this one.”

PSNIE

“You do, do you?” Delaney handed me the pencil.

“Mm hmm.” I quickly scribbled: PENIS.

She narrowed her eyes. “I think that’s actually supposed to be snipe.”

“Really? Huh. You do the next one.”

GINWLOB

Her nose scrunched up adorably. Then she penciled in: BLOWING.

“Like that?” she asked, slanting her eyes at me from beneath long eyelashes.

“Works for me.” My voice dropped as my cock thickened at the thought of her blowing me.

“I thought it might.”

ORNIB

BONER. I looked hopefully at her.

“You used the wrong vowel! That is so not the answer.”

“Should be.”

“You’re impossible.” She grabbed the pencil and fixed the word I’d messed up intentionally.

Just as she finished writing in ROBIN, the landing gear engaged, jolting Delaney toward me. She dropped the pencil, and it landed between my spread thighs. The woman must not have been thinking when she groped down low, right there, and her wrist slid against the enormous erection filling my pants.

Turning a flushed face to mine, she slowly drew her hand back. Her fingers way too close to my cock.

“We’re in Charleston already?” she asked with a breathless lilt.

“Yup.” My voice came out roughened, and I ached to cup her palm on top of my cock and buck up into her hand.

Her gaze darted to my lap then back up, locking on mine. “Thanks for entertaining me.”

“Thanks for . . .” almost making me come. I swallowed that response down, bounding to my feet as soon as Delaney stood in the aisle.

“Thanks for what?” Her shimmering black hair created a fan across her shoulders, and her tits brushed against my chest.

“Thanks for keeping me company.” Foraging through the overhead bin, I located her bag.

I handed it down, clasping my hands around hers for a brief moment.

Too damn soon, she was carried away in the current of disembarking Cougars and Crush team members. I left last, hoping to get my disobedient dick under control.

We hustled onto the bus, and it was only a ten-minute ride to Carolina Crush HQ. Marquis made sure I took the seat beside him, because he wanted the gossip. The bastard wasn’t getting anything out of me, though.

I sat—all mum’s the word—until we stopped at the old stomping grounds.

Delaney swept past me, out of the bus. By the time I got off, she was already at her car, an older model Toyota. Nothing flashy for her. Unlike Marquis’s screaming red Ferrari.

Rafe, Akoni, Bunyan, Marquis, and the rest of those fucks hemmed me in on all sides, digging for their luggage in the bus’s guts. I watched, my shades over my eyes against the midday sun, as Delaney drove away.

“Better wipe that drool off your mouth, dude.” Rafe shoved my shoulder.

I flipped him the middle finger. “Screw you.”

“Would, but I’m no longer on the market,” the wiseass commented.

“Heard you asked her out last night, and she smoked you.” Marquis added his two cents.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“So that one time when US Weekly reported you got together with that hot new pop singer chick, they got it all wrong?” Bunyan took the next crack at me.

“No comment.” My jaw clenched.

Akoni folded me into a mighty bear hug that nearly broke me. “Leave Brooks alone. He’s still hurting after Brianna, and you oughtta respect that.”

“I swear to God if you start weeping—”

Akoni squeezed me harder, almost strangling me. Thought my eyes were gonna pop out of my head.

“Knock it off, AK.” Bunyan pulled me from his buddy’s big embrace. “You’re crushing him.”

“The emotions. They get to me,” Akoni muttered.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Me too. So stop riding my ass about my crush on Delaney.”

“Fucking knew it.” Marquis hooted, chest-bumping Rafe.

I left the idiots to it and headed to my pickup, looking for a little peace and quiet. After slinging my bags into the back, I jumped into the driver’s side and roared the engine to life.

The usual drag race from the parking lot ensued, Marquis zipping ahead of me in his sleek sports car. Next thing the dude would be getting his teeth capped in gold. Good thing Charmaine kept him grounded, and his two kids kept him mostly exhausted with daddy duties, otherwise I could see him as the next superstar athlete money-whore.

But I didn’t have to worry about Marquis’s marriage—or my own anymore for that matter. I still couldn’t stop thinking about Delaney, though.

I had way more than a crush on her, and some goddamn thing had put her off men. No way did I wanna upset her or get all in her face, but I wasn’t about to back down and leave her alone either.

Something sure was hurting, Akoni had been right about that. It wasn’t the aches and pains of the tackles from the game yesterday. It wasn’t the heartbreak over my marriage ending since I was trying not to be a bitter bastard about Brianna these days.

Coulda been my sorely neglected cock aching, but I knew it was more than that. And it all had to do with Delaney rubbing me raw.

The drive to my house settled my thoughts. I lived outside Charleston city limits, beyond Mt. Pleasant, and on up 17 in McClellanville. The best of both worlds. By the Intracoastal waterway for surfing and boarding, with enough land for my Appaloosa to stretch his legs on.

Yeah, the big beard made me look like a mountain man, but I was a Texan cowboy at heart. Played for A&M, then caught my big break with Carolina Crush. I’d been with the team ever since.

Three things Brianna hadn’t been able to take away from me—the land, my horse Jester, and my pickup. I shifted into park outside the rustic house that reminded me of the ranch I’d grown up in.

The dark blue ’77 Ford F150 was nowhere near brand spanking new with the shiniest tires or all the fixings, but the pickup was jacked up, growled like a mountain lion, and it had history. I babied the Ford just like I babied Jester—one handed down from my granddaddy, the other reared by my father. Brianna wouldn’t have wanted the ugly old beast, as she called the truck, anyway. Not her style. She was into the glitter and the gold, the cash money . . . and the Bentley I’d bought her for her twenty-sixth birthday.

I probably should’ve figured that out before ten years of marriage ended in flames.

Loping up the steps, I opened up the house. I walked through the rooms, lifting windows to air the place out. Back outside after I tossed my bags into the bedroom, I hopped over the porch railing and hit the gravel, the stable my destination.

My “ranch hand” Adam came in every day to take care of Jester—Adam curried him and coddled him almost more than me. But I rode Jester every chance I got. Couldn’t take the Texas ranchboy outta me, no matter how hard Brianna had tried.

Creaking the stable door open, I whistled through my teeth. I padded down the aisle toward his stall. He immediately whickered back, thrusting his head over the waist-high barrier.

The long face, wide nostrils, knowing eyes, and sable mane shaking, Jester greeted me as I stepped up to press my face against his.

He whinnied, his neck thrust up.

“Yeah, I know. Missed you too.”

He nudged his head against mine.

“Okay. Okay. I brought you a damn apple. Greedy guts.” I opened my palm, and he lightly nipped at the red delicious. “So now you’re a gentleman? Eating delicately?”

His loud snort blasted warm air across my face.

“The fuck you say? I have been a gentleman with the new lady.”

Jester’s eyes rolled.

Even my fucking horse did that shit at me.

“What?” I patted the bay’s long sleek neck with its leopard spotting mirrored on his hindquarters. “I’m on my best behavior. But I think she got hurt. Don’t know how to make a woman like that feel safe.”

He snuffled, toeing a hoof into the hay beneath him.

“What’s that? You’re lonely, boy?”

He whinnied again.

“I know. Me too.” I watched as he gobbled the rest of the apple right down to the core. “I’m aiming to fix that. Maybe get a nice mare for you to ride with, how’d you like that?”

Jester’s lips nipped at my palm.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m looking for a nice lady to ride with too.”

He shimmied his mane from side to side.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tugging on his forelock, I peered into his eyes. “Delaney Jones. And she ain’t no little filly.”

****

A couple days later and Delaney had done a bang-up job of making herself scarce. Our practice times on the field and workout regimes in the fitness center didn’t overlap. And every time I came across her, she ghosted, leaving her Sisterhood of the Travelling Artemis League a tough chick wall between her and me.

Meanwhile Marquis got on my case every chance he got about Delaney, Bunyan running his mouth not far behind. The only reason I earned a reprieve from the Mac Daddy himself was because he was in La-La-Love Land.

The family that played together stayed together apparently. Rafe and Peyton couldn’t keep their hands off one another, and wedding plans were in the works.

He thought he better put a ring on it before he knocked her up this time.

I didn’t hold out much hope in that regard because their first night together six years ago had proved sufficient to get Peyton pregnant. However, I was ready to stand up with him since he’d asked me to be best man. And you better believe Livvy—Rafe’s kid sister—texted me about that turn of events. The tween girl, who wanted to become the first female NFL player, likened being the flower girl for the event to being a cheerleader shaking her pom-poms. Little sis Macintyre was pissed she wasn’t gonna be top dog during the marriage ceremony.

Imagine that.

After Coach Frank, the offensive coordinator, had busted my nuts during practice then sat the whole O-line through three hours of tactics talks in prep for the upcoming game against the New York Dragons, I wandered around the Crush complex. I didn’t want to head home when only Jester waited for me.

I passed the gymnasium and slowed my steps. Light blinked from beneath the doors, and I heard a basketball bouncing in a rapid-fire rhythm.

Shouldering the door open, I glanced inside. There was Delaney, shooting off basket after basket at the far end of the court.

She glistened with sweat, hair arranged in some kind of complicated braid, wearing long loose shorts, an overlarge t-shirt, and a Cougars cap on backward.

Loved her in every look. Couldn’t wait to see her naked.

But that vulnerability in her eyes during the flight from JAX returned in a flash when she caught the ball on rebound and swung around to find me standing on the centerline.