Intercepted (Page 6)

Bitch.

I hate her.

The elevator doors open. Because why wouldn’t I get trapped in a small space with them?

“Hey, Marlee. Long time no see! You didn’t tell me you were married to Chris,” Madison says once the doors close behind her.

I look over my shoulder to see if someone else named Marlee got on the elevator without me seeing, because I don’t know what the hell just happened. And Chris? Did I miss something? She won’t shake my hand, but she’s on a first-name basis with my boyfriend? Da fuq?

“Uh . . . yeah. He’s my boyfriend, the bedazzled jersey usually gives it away.”

If I wasn’t so used to seeing it on Courtney, I would’ve missed the way Madison’s eyes narrowed just so and her smile sat frozen. But all’s forgotten the second I hear the deep laughter I’ve been trying to remember for the last four years.

I did not do it justice.

“Marlee, nice to meet you.” Gavin extends a hand toward me. “Chris is always talking about you. And TK won’t shut up about your lasagna, I can’t wait to try it.”

I take his hand and have to fight to keep my eyes from closing and answering him with a moan instead of words. Even with the extra effort, my voice still comes out strained. “TK will eat anything.”

Because after all of these years, he’s here. In front of me. Touching me. But he’s not there. He isn’t looking at me the way he does when I dream of his blue eyes watching me. He isn’t touching me like he did in his bed before. He’s treating me like the stranger I am to him—my only connection to him is being his teammate’s girlfriend. I don’t know what I wanted to happen. I guess I hoped that even if I was one of many, at least I would’ve been memorable.

As if hearing my thoughts, Madison wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder. “Do you still want to go to dinner, Gavs? Or are you too tired?”

Gavs? Gross. Why doesn’t she pee on him for fuck’s sake?

Before he can answer, the elevator doors slide open and yelling fans waiting for autographs fill the small space.

It’s like I’ve stepped into my nightmares. I can’t hear my thoughts, just the screeching voices calling for both Chris and Gavin. But truth be told, their names being shouted is the only thing going through my brain lately anyways.

I was wrong, God. I’ll take silence over this any day.

Five

“If this stupid son of a bitch doesn’t give you a ring soon, I will,” TK says from across the table.

He’s my favorite. This is his second year in the league, and he’s like the little brother I never had. Chris took him under his wing last year, and he’s spent every holiday with us. I know for a fact he enjoys my cooking more than Chris, and when he started his nonprofit organization, he hired me to set up his website. When Chris had his website done, he went to a big company that had no interest in him or his cause. He paid triple what I charge and it looks like trash. I’m not bitter either, just smug.

I told TK he didn’t have to pay me so long as he recommended me to his friends. The next week I had five new clients and two thousand dollars from “Anonymous” in my PayPal account. He’ll always have a special place in my heart.

But by the looks of this dinner, he might not have one with Chris.

I wasn’t planning on eating with them. For one, carbs are my frenemy. Second, this is supposed to be a players’ bonding dinner and sitting at a table with six football players, listening to them discuss strategy and film, isn’t my idea of a good time. Especially when, out of the six, two are feuding quarterbacks, four are competing wide receivers, two have been in my panties, and only one remembers it. Math has never been my strong point and even I can figure out this word problem.

But hey, how could that possibly go wrong?

“Shut up, asshole. You can’t come into my house and talk to my girl like that.”

Oooh. TK brought out Possessive Chris and it’s rare that he makes an appearance. I’m thinking he’s regretting inviting all the receivers because this night has backfired on him. He might not agree, but it’s pretty comical when you really think about it. Chris was so sure he was going to win Gavin over with his charm and charisma, he didn’t realize every other person at the table set out to do the same thing.

Well, except me and Marcus—the rookie wide receiver Chris has taken under his wing this season. We sit together discussing what he should buy his girlfriend for her birthday. She’s still finishing her degree back in California. I only met her once, but I’d still wager my gift ideas of an anytime ticket to Denver or a spa day would be better received than his idea of a jersey signed by the Mustangs team.

“All right, guys, while this has been fun, I have a deadline and dishes to do.” I clap my hands. I’m so full from dinner, I’m convinced the carbs have already found a permanent home on my ass as I struggle to stand up.

“And we have poker to play and cigars to smoke.” Chris rises from the table at the same time I do, but doesn’t offer to help clear it like I’d hoped. It’s not like I pushed all my work back until later so I could make him enough lasagna to feed an army or anything. Why would he be considerate enough to help clean?

All of the guys follow him after shouting their thanks and farewells my way.

Everyone except Gavin, that is.

“You comin’?” Chris asks.

“You guys go ahead.” Gavin holds up his phone. “My agent called while we were eating. I’m going to call him back, and then I’ll meet you down there.”

“Not a problem, bro.” Chris sits back down at the table instead of helping me clear the dishes. “We can wait.”

“Please, don’t wait for me,” Gavin says. “I’ll have Marlee show me where you are when I come back in.”

Say what now?

Did I miss the portion of the evening where I became the hired help?

“Yeah, why do we have to change everything to cater to him?” Kevin interrupts my thoughts with his whining. No wonder he’s married to Courtney. Haters, party of two.

“Shut the fuck up, Kevin.” If looks could kill, Kevin would be dead right now. Chris must not have told him this dinner wasn’t for Kevin to knock Gavin, it was to get Chris his number one receiver spot back. “If you’re sure then. We’ll be in the basement. Marlee will show you.”

Wait.

“What?” I ask. But I’m too late because Chris is gone and the front door is closing behind Gavin.

I used our good china tonight so it takes me longer to clear the table. Each step is a little more cautious than normal, and the rattling of dishes I usually ignore sounds like alarms wailing in my head. I know I made lasagna for men who wouldn’t have blinked if I’d served them on paper plates, but if my nonna taught me anything, it’s that presentation matters. Also, I should never leave the house without a little lipstick, but that doesn’t apply here.

One by one, I hand wash each dish, dry it off, and stack it on the counter beside me. Dishes might not be my favorite chore, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to finding a certain peace to it. The constant sound of the water running and the repetitive motions are easy to get lost in. I guess that’s the reason I didn’t hear Gavin walk back in the house until it was too late.

“Want some help?” His deep voice causes me to jump so high I almost fall and break the dish I’m holding. Lucky for me, Gavin’s as good at catching as he is at throwing. He hasn’t given any signs he recognizes me, but it’s clear my body recognizes him. The touch is innocent, but the feel of his strong hands on my waist causes a shiver to shoot up my spine.