Page 52 of Roughing the Player
Chapter 14
Eleanor
“IS BROCK PARKER COMING OVER?”Meghan, Kaylee’s best friend, asks. She’d come to visit Kaylee, ostensibly to find out how she’s doing, but I’m guessing her real reason was to meet Brock. Well, she’s bound to be disappointed.
“No. Not tonight.” Because of his away game, Brock didn’t have Butch for the weekend. Rather, he’d arranged for Butch to remain with us. Even if he wanted to do a quick drive by to see Butch, it’s late. He’d never be that rude.
His fifteen phone messages would suggest he might have another purpose for dropping by, but I know better. I’d given him exactly what he wanted and now he wants more of the same. And that’s not happening. I’m not about to compound the colossal mistake I’d made.
It had been earth-shattering what we’d done. There’s no other way to describe it. He’d taken me in every way he knew how, most new to me. For hours, he’d tasted me, savored me, ridden me. And I’d loved every second of it. When dawn arrived, every bit of me hurt. It’d been more difficult than I can say to crawl out of bed, dress quietly in the dark and leave. But it was the right thing to do. Before we get caught. Before I lose my job. Before I fall in love with him. Too late. I never stopped loving Brock. But I’ve lived without him all these years. I can live without him again.
“Oh.” Meghan’s definitely deflated. She’d hoped to meet her crush. But she’s not seeing him in person if I have anything to say about it.
“Let’s make popcorn,” Kaylee says, walking into the kitchen. Although the MRI revealed her injury was only a sprain, the orthopedist recommended she wear the air cast, at least for another week. He’d also traded her old-fashioned crutches for a hands-free one which has made her more mobile and a lot happier.
“’K,” Meghan responds. Still despondent, she follows Kaylee into the kitchen.
After the popcorn is done, the girls will probably go back to giggling, Skyping their friends, painting their toenails. Typical pre-teen girl stuff.
I, however, have some work to do. So I head to my study to catch up.
No sooner do I get there, than there’s a knock at the front door. Who on earth could it be? I’m not expecting anyone.
“You want me to get it, Ms. Adams?” Meghan yells.
Before I can say no. I hear a squeak. “It’s him.”
A bad feeling crawls over me. “Him who?”
“Brock Parker. He’s gorgeous.”
Dear God. Barefoot I run out of the study in a fruitless attempt to stop her from opening the door.
But it’s too late.
The sight of Brock standing on the porch makes my stupid heart skip a beat.
“Hi,” Meghan says, twirling her hair.
“You must be Kaylee,” Brock responds with that killer smile of his.
Giggling ensues. “Oh, no. I’m Kaylee’s best friend, Meghan.” More giggling.
I reach the living room at the same time Kaylee emerges from the kitchen, popcorn bowl in her free hand.
Meghan points to her best friend. “That’s Kaylee.”
Oh, fuckity, fuck, fuck. Brock’s gaze zeroes in on Kaylee. And the smile on his face vanishes in an instant.
Having no idea of the disaster brewing, Kaylee greets him. “Hi, Mr. Parker. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re Kaylee?” His gaze narrows. His lips tighten.
She rolls forward on her hands-free crutch until she’s about a foot away from him. “Yes.”
It’s so obvious they’re related, even a blind man could see. Meghan might be flighty but the resemblance is not lost on her. Her gaze bounces between the two of them, and her silly grin disappears. “Oh. My. God.”
“Meghan, don’t.” I beg.
