Page 56 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Houston looks right at the camera and smirks. “Old? I’m just getting started, baby.”
“You said it,” Jordan replies with a groan.
Houston winks and walks off camera, even though I’m pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to be the end of the interview based on the way Tamlin looks ready to laugh. She watches him go for two seconds and then turns back to the camera.
“Well, if you ask me, Houston Briggs is on the wrong team. Something tells me he would make a good Dodger. There’s no denying Briggs is good at what he does, but you heard the man. It takes a team to win the World Series, and Sun City knows how to pick champions. I’m Tamlin Park from Enhance Media, and stay tuned for more Red-tails excitement coming your way!”
The interview ends, and Jordan turns off the TV before setting the remote in between us. That leaves his hand resting right next to mine, though I try to ignore the burning sensation where our pinkies rest against one another. I could move my hand before the contact drives me crazy, but I don’t.
Neither does Jordan.
“You were right,” I tell him, trying to distract myself. “That interview was interesting.”
Jordan chuckles. “She knew how to get right under his skin. I think I love her.”
I whack his arm, regretting that decision immediately because I suddenly want to give that arm a squeeze and see if he really is all muscle, like he looks. “She called Houston old!”
“Heisold.”
“Hey!”
Snorting a laugh, Jordan turns and pats my head as if that might ease the sting of indirectly being called old by twin default. “For a baseball player, especially a pitcher, Houston is practically ancient. He’s almost thirty. No matter how talented he is, he is well past his prime, and everyone knows it.”
Huh. I guess I never thought about how there aren’t many middle-aged pro athletes out there, but it makes sense. I was basically down and out for an entire weekend because my body didn’t respond well to a little tumble, and Houston puts his body through a lot every time he plays a game.
I’m tired just thinking about how many balls he threw tonight. “Why doesn’t Houston use relief pitchers?”
“Because he’s a self-important idiot,” Jordan mumbles. “But he somehow makes it work. I have no idea how.”
“It’s because he hates to lose. That interview with Tamlin is probably going to bug him for days.”
For some reason, that makes Jordan grin. “Oh, I hope so. I hope he has to talk to her again because that was wildly entertaining. Can you imagine if Houston ended up dating someone like her?”
I can’t help but laugh. “He would lose his mind. Houston would never date someone who isn’t already in love with him because he’s famous.”
“I don’t know. He’s still single after breaking up with Bonnie, and he doesn’t seem to be looking for the next temp.”
I’ve noticed that too. I don’t remember the last time my brother didn’t have a girlfriend, so the last couple of months have been weird. Even if he’s rarely home, I talk to him enough to know who he’s dating, and there hasn’t been anyone new since he broke up with his movie star girlfriend, Bonnie. I don’t think he’s even been on a date. Either he’s hung up on Bonnie, or something has changed, and he was never that into Bonnie in the first place.
“Do you think he’s ready to settle down?” I ask, though I have no idea if Houston and Jordan talk about stuff like that.
Jordan shrugs. “It’s hard to know. I think he’s restless, unsettled, and he isn’t sure what he wants. With his contract being up soon, I think he’s been thinking more about his future. But that doesn’t mean he’ll be brave enough to be vulnerable in a relationship. You saw the way he ran away from Tamlin just now, so I’m not holding my breath for him being brave enough to face something real.”
He makes some good points, but that just makes me sad. Houston is such a good guy, and I want him to be happy. “Maybe he is already falling in love with Tamlin Park and he got spooked.”
Snorting a laugh, Jordan turns his gorgeous smile on me and seems to study me for a second. Then he pats my leg and gets to his feet. “I should go. You’re talking to Mark tomorrow, right?”
Mark.Right. “If he’s there, I will try to—”
“No.” He fixes a stern expression on his face. “No trying, Queens. You gotta do.”
“Okay, Yoda.”
I expect him to do the voice, something he did a lot when we were younger to bug me, but he just smiles and heads for the door. “Goodnight, Queens. And good luck.”
With my track record with dating, and especially with Mark, I’m going to need it.
Chapter Seventeen
