The Baller by Vi Keeland

beyond tipsy when she hailed a cab for us, foregoing our usual subway trek home. The driver dropped her first, and I sat in traffic staring out the window in an alcohol-induced daze. A bus pulled up next to me and caught my attention. An old ad was peeling from the side. It had the New York Steel logo along with a picture of Brody’s handsome face and read, Easton is back. It must have been a few years old.
    The alcohol had me making rash decisions. Without thinking, I thumbed off a text.
    Delilah: Just saw your picture on the side of a bus. Do you like having your face on public transportation?
    He responded thirty seconds later.
    Brody: I like having my face anywhere that makes you think about me. But I’d rather have my face between your legs.
    Who said things like that? And why the hell did I like it? Seriously, the lower half of my body began to tingle.
    Delilah: You have a real way with words, friend.
    Brody: I have a real way with my tongue. When are you going to give in and let me show you?
    Delilah: Tempting. But I think I’ll stick to men who are interested in more than just my orifices.
    Brody: I’m getting hard just because you used the word orifices.
    I chuckled out loud. The cabbie looked at me in the rearview mirror, and I held up my phone in explanation. He didn’t give a crap.
    Delilah: Good night, Brody.
    The man could make me laugh and ignite at the same time. It was a combination that my entire body quite liked.
    Brody: See you in your dreams.
    He most certainly would be.
     
    ***
     
    Saturday afternoon, I was a wreck. I had the rare one-on-one interview with Brody at five, followed by a date with Michael at eight. As I headed to the Regency, I wanted to kill Indie for setting up my dinner for this evening.
    “Nervous?” Nick glanced at me and then back to the road. We were carrying more equipment than we normally would for a locker room interview, so he had picked me up in the station’s van.
    “Does it show?”
    “You’ve been spinning that pen around in your hand since you got in.”
    I clutched the pen in my fist to stop myself. I was definitely a nervous fidgeter and had no idea I was even doing it. “Sorry.”
    “Doesn’t bother me any. But I’m surprised. To me, heading into the locker room would be more nerve-racking than this sit-down. You always seem so calm, waiting to go in after the games.”
    “I must just be better at hiding it then. Plus. I have a date tonight after the interview. It’s been a while. I was on a self-imposed six-month hiatus from dating.”
    “Well, that explains it, then. What time is your date?”
    “Eight.”
    “Plenty of time. We’ll be out of there by seven.”
    We arrived at Brody’s hotel a few minutes early, and he opened the door fresh from the shower. His hair was slicked back, and droplets of water beaded on his ridiculously toned chest. God, I wanted to lick them off.
    Brody caught me gaping. A knowing grin spread across his gorgeous face. I wanted to smack if off. Or kiss it off.
    “Come on in. Figured Delilah could help me pick out something to wear while you set up.” He shook Nick’s hand and then leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
    Nick and Brody spoke about where to set up and spent a few minutes talking sports. The man was definitely a charmer—to both men and women. It just came naturally to him. It was part of what made him larger than life on camera. He exuded confidence and charisma. Eventually, he turned his attention to me. “You ready to dress me?”
    I rolled my eyes. As Brody led the way to his bedroom, Nick yelled, “Don’t take as long as you take to pick your own clothes out, or you’ll miss half your date.”
    I walked straight into Brody when he stopped in his tracks. “Date?”
    Swallowing, I felt like I’d done something wrong. “Yes, I have a date tonight after our interview.”
    “What time?”
    “Eight.”
    He surprised me by not discussing it any further. We walked through