Page 10 of Offside

Today features yet another overpriced, unwanted delivery. I scowl at the arrangement that just arrived and have a burning urge to throw them against the wall.

That would be satisfying, except then I’d just have to clean up the mess left behind.

Normally, I’d ask Christine to dispose of them, but she’s on a well-deserved vacation this week before all the players and admins return for the start of preseason practice and training camp.

A strange thread of awareness prickles down my spine when I think of seeing Ballas again. I pick up the glass vase, indulging in the succulent scent of the beautiful but unwanted flowers, and carry it with me to the elevator.

I shouldn’t have read the note attached but I caved. His words were not only cringe-worthy but so revealing of Bradley’s narcissism.

“Sunshine,

Please call me back. I know I made a mistake when I let you go. I still love you. You’re the one for me.

Love, Bradley.”

The fact that he believes he let me go has me snorting out loud as I press the button on the elevator door to head down to the parking garage and throw out the reminder of him. Bradley’s indiscretions and his inability to keep his dick in his pants during our time together became the deciding factor for my decision to break it off with him.

A woman deserves a man who builds her up and worships her, not a douche who puts her down.

It was on my way to Vegas when I finally came to that realization and became a new woman. It all led me to my one-night fling with Ballas.

The flowers are just another reminder of how happy I am to be single again and not with that dog. He’s delusional if he thinks he can win me back by sending a few overpriced and extravagant gifts.

I don’t have time for his bullshit—which borders now on stalkerish behavior. But at least I now realize my worth and know I am deserving of more than he could ever give me.

I give my head a shake and shove my nose into the lilies, taking in one last sniff of the fragrance of my favorite flowers. Once I ditch these in the garbage dumpster, I’ll go grab some lunch from the vending machine.

When the buzzer dings and the doors open, I take a step forward off the elevator, my nose still buried in the arrangement, and I run smack dab into a wall of human.

“Oomph.” The air is knocked out of my lungs and I’m thrown off-kilter. I back up to regain my balance, embarrassed that I hadn’t been paying attention to where I’m going. “I’m so sorry. Excuse me…”

A large pair of hands grabs the heavy glass vase from my grasp, shifting it to the side and away from my face.

Ballas.

Speak of the devil.

He oh-so-casually tips his chin in a nod, his eyes bouncing from the flowers to my eyes, a slow smile inching up at the corners of his mouth. He drops his warm hands from the vase. I take a step back from the open elevator door.

Regaining my composure, I steel my resolve and stifle the part of me that is thrilled to see him again, working to maintain a professional aloofness.

“Good to see you, Ms. Spurlock.” His deep-timbred voice shakes me to my very core, already unraveling any hope I had to remain cool and unaffected. Dammit, I want to stay mad at him.

Standing with his back against the door to keep it from closing, he crosses one ankle over the other and casually leans back. “Celebrating something, or is someone in the doghouse?”

It’s annoying how gorgeous he looks. His handsome face sports a golden tan that’s probably the outcome of months out on a fishing boat or golf course. Christine, who is always good for all the juicy comings-and-goings of the organization, mentioned something about his whereabouts this summer and had numerous stories to share about what she heard of his well-known conquests and revolving door of lovers.

Fighting the pang of jealousy that poked at my heart’s edges, I resisted the urge to inquire more about it and clamped my mouth shut like the proud woman I am, gently reminding myself that I didn’t give a rat’s ass about Ballas, his trips, or his current relationship status.

Lies. All lies.

Honestly, it proved more difficult than I had hoped this past summer to remember why Ballas should mean nothing to me. It’s as if the kiss we shared in my office that day worked some magic spell, charming me out of all the animosity I’d had toward him.

His voice is full of amusement but is that interest in his eyes? Is he asking if I’m seeing someone?

I carefully hide my own flicker of interest with forced composure, trying hard not to breathe in his spicy, woodsy scent that makes my brain go a little fuzzy. What’d he ask me again?

“It’s none of your business, Ballas.” I scoff with a roll of my eyes. “But if you must know, I’m throwing these away because that doghouse was burned to the ground and the dog was sent off when he humped another bitch.”

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