I almost had to bust ass to Houston to cover the league’s fall meetings, but thankfully because of my interview with Brett, Jade felt the need to pull up her socks. EAN didn’t give her the post-game interviews for this week’s game. She also begged to cover most of the Blazers’ away games, too. She knows I hate the constant traveling and knew it would be an easy grab. Mind you, she doesn’t like doing me any favors. But she knows that to push me out, she needs opportunities to prove herself.

This leaves me free to have some fun this weekend. I’ve decided to play it low-key. There’s a secret pub called Keep a Secret that Anne and I love going to. It’s a different kind of place and somewhat exclusive. To get in, you need to go inside another restaurant called Crave Dogs. Inside Crave Dogs, there’s a telephone booth. You go inside the booth, dial the number one and get the hostess—but you only get in if you have a reservation. They take reservations at three in the afternoon. The entire bar gets booked quickly. If you can’t manage to get a reservation, the other option is to keep calling and wait inside Crave Dogs for hours until they can get you a table. It would be annoying to have to go through this process every time Anne and I wanted to eat there, but, fortunately she knows one of the owners.

Anne and I sit at the bar and I begin to look over the menu. They don’t serve anything fancy, like so many other restaurants in New York. They serve loaded hot dogs and waffle fries, the kind of munchies you’d crave while watching a game. They also have some wicked drinks. The best part of being here is the fact that I don’t have sports fans hitting on me. I don’t want to date the idiot that paints colors and numbers on his hairy beer belly. Ew.

As the bartender takes our order and starts making our drinks, Anne turns to me in her seat, “So, you still getting any heat over Brett’s cock?”

Oh, yes I did. I picture the perfection of his bare body and the corners of my lips curve.

Anne looks at me curiously, “Lexi? You alright?”

“Yeah, um, sorry. Steve hasn’t said much about it. The interview I had with Brett the other day seemed to make him happy so—”

I stop in my tracks; across the bar from Anne and I, Brett and a friend have taken a seat. Anne follows my gaze, “Speak of the devil. Should we invite him over?”

I blush, “Uh, I don’t know.” I know that the other night with Brett was a onetime thing. He didn’t say much afterward; he seemed more concerned with packing his bag and leaving. Probably didn’t want to get caught being with me after the fuss he made. The bartender sets down our drinks and I take a sip.

“I think we should talk to them.” Anne removes the lemon wedge from her drink. “You know, try to keep a smooth relationship. Now that he is the Blazers’ quarterback, you may end up doing many interviews. You want to remain in his good books.”

Brett makes eye contact with me from across the bar. I feel anxious. Looking at him makes my heart pound. I’m afraid I’m going to make an idiot of myself. “We can’t talk to them. They are sitting across the bar and there are never any empty seats in Keep a Secret, Anne. We can’t take a seat next to them.” But then the unthinkable happens; Brett and his friend pick up their drinks and approach Anne and I.

“Fancy seeing you here, sports bunny,” Brett says smoothly.

“Holy shit!” says a man sitting next to me as he notices Brett. “Are you Brett Brock?!”

“Yes, I am,” Brett replies calmly. “Can my friend Hal and I trade seats with you and your friend? We’d like to sit next to the lovely ladies.”

“Absolutely. Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure,” Hal says. “Do you have something he can sign?”

“Uh.” The man fumbles about, looking for something. His friend offers two coasters that are on the bar. Brett quickly signs them before he takes a seat next to me. My racing heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. My breathing is unsteady, but I manage to muster a ‘hello.’

“How have you been these past few days, Lexi?” Brett asks.

Thinking about how well you fuck. Constantly. “Fine.” I swallow hard, trying to expel dirty visuals from my mind. “You have a game tomorrow, don’t you? I suppose you’re not going to stay out long.”

“I shouldn’t.” His bold eyes rake over my body. “But I don’t mind being a little tired before a game. Sometimes, it’s worth it.” His hand glides up and down my thigh, and I involuntarily spread my legs slightly. Lexi, what are you doing? I glance over at Hal and Anne and they seem immersed in a conversation and haven’t noticed Brett’s hand grazing my inner thigh. Thank God for dark corners in exclusive bars.

“I would enjoy taking things a little further, bunny,” he murmurs in my ear. “My beer isn’t as delicious as what’s between your legs.”

FUUUCCKKK.

“You cut straight to the chase, don’t you?”

“Well, I do have a limo outside. You want to go for a ride?” he asks, his knuckle brushing back and forth across my thin cotton panties.

“Mmm,” I mutter involuntarily. Keep it together, Lexi! There’s a part of me that tells me I shouldn’t. I should try to keep things professional between us. I always regretted being with Tristan, especially after finding out about his fiancée, Katie. But my raging hormones don’t care about my gut instinct, “Sure. But what do we tell Anne and Hal?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He turns to Hal and Anne. “Since I got a game tomorrow, I should head out. Lexi, are you covering tomorrow night’s game?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Maybe you can prep me on some interview questions on my way home. Do you live in downtown Manhattan?”

I nod.

“Great, I’ll give you a ride back, then.”

Anne gives me a look, “Don’t stay out too late, Lexi.”

“Don’t worry, Anne.” I rise from my stool and pick up my coat. “I’ll be sure to look my best for tomorrow. I hate not to be well-rested before a game.”

“Have a good night,” Hal says suggestively.

Brett put a few bills down, “That should cover this round. See you later.” He takes my hand and we make our way to the phone booth door.

“That wasn’t obvious,” I mutter.

“Come on, Driver, there’s no discreet way for me to take a girl out of a bar.”