Body Check by Deirdre Martin

do PR, and who refused to do a damn thing to help her; who preferred doing hands-on stuff with kids, and who got off on dressing up and hobnobbing with the grandees of New York society intent on demonstrating their noblesse oblige. They were an okay bunch, hardworking and generous, despite the weekend rowdiness so many of them persisted in involving themselves in. But time was on her side here. If she hung in long enough, she had no doubt she could strong-arm most of them into an image-enhancing activity or two.
    Except for their sainted captain, of course.
    She didn’t get it. Didn’t get him . She knew he had a deep generosity of spirit, because she’d seen it firsthand, both with her brother and with his own players. She knew he was a caring person, too, if his near throttling of “Lex” on the train to DC a few weeks back was any measure. So why was he still so resistant to publicity, especially the kind she did, all of it for a good cause? And why was he avoiding her like the plague lately? Okay, so he always tried to steer clear of her anyway, especially when he saw her coming at him with a clipboard. But ever since the train incident, he’d been even more tightlipped than usual, and when he did deign to talk to her, he was monosyllabic and curt, which some people might interpret as rude. What was the deal?
    The question lingered in the back of her mind as she and Theresa watched the Blades kick the stuffing out of Jersey, 5-2. When the game was over, Theresa finished her beer, and, plunking the empty plastic cup down on the concrete floor between her feet, turned to Janna expectantly.
    â€œI want to meet them.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œWho,” Theresa repeated, exasperated. “You know who! The Blades. Take me down to the locker room.”
    â€œOh, no. No way.” Janna tried to picture Theresa walking into that sea of sweaty, muscled flesh and knew instinctively that it was a recipe for disaster. Besides, she was in no mood to watch the entire team turn into blithering dolts at the sight of her gorgeous friend. “Forget it.”
    â€œC’mon,” Theresa pleaded.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, can’t we meet up with them at a bar or something? I know a bunch of them go out for a brew or two after a home game, and I know you know where. C’mon, Janna.” She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, her expression as innocent as a choirgirl. “Please?”
    Janna thought. To be honest, the last thing she wanted to do was go out to some smoky bar and watch Theresa search for her soul mate among the players. That’s all she’d need—her roommate dating one of the Blades. Plus she’d been out three nights this week at fund-raisers and was exhausted; all she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed with the latest issue of People . Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, if Theresa’s expression, which was now morphing into a “You owe me” scowl, was any indication.
    â€œAll right,” Janna wearily agreed as Theresa clapped with delight. “But on one condition.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œ A , you behave yourself, and B , we are out of there by two at the latest.”
    â€œAgreed. And since that’s two conditions, I have one, too.”
    â€œWhat?” Janna asked suspiciously.
    â€œWhen we get there, you have to tell me which of the guys looks best naked.”
    Janna rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. They all look the same.”
    Which was a lie. She knew damn well who looked best, but there was no way she was going to tell Theresa, just in case he was there.
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    Ty was at the bar getting himself a Guinness when he heard a couple of the guys behind him say her name, telling her they were glad she’d finally decided to join them. He glanced quickly over his shoulder, and sure enough, there she was, looking damn cute in jeans and a simple, white,