Hard Fall (Trophy Boyfriends 2)

Both. Neither.

Both.

Damn him. Why is he so insightful? Yet another remarkable trait emerging after spending more time with him. Ugh. STOP BEING AMAZING, DAMMIT! I’m trying not to like you!

“My dad was too busy for us growing up.” I squirm a little in my seat, not wanting to badmouth my father but honest enough to admit life at the Westbrooke house was far from a fairy tale. “He wasn’t around, and…I’m pretty sure he probably cheated on my mom.” Only she’d never admit that she knew, and my brother and sister and I would never ask.

We have our suspicions though.

Everyone in our household lived in my father’s shadow, and I will not live like that any longer.

Which is why I won’t date an athlete working for him. Which is why I am paving my own path. Which is why I am keeping my distance from Buzz Wallace—he’s dangerous to my future plans.

Cute, but dangerous.

Don’t be so dramatic, Hollis. He’s hardly a danger.

He isn’t genuinely interested…is he?

“You’ve gotten real quiet over there. Is everything okay?” His voice is low and gentle, his hand on the center console. I stare down at his long fingers, the tan hands peppered with dark hair.

“I’m good. Just thinking. I didn’t mean to get so serious, sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We all need to vent sometimes.”

“Do you?”

He shrugs. “Not really. When I need to blow off steam, I work at one of the properties I’m fixing up.”

That’s right; I forgot he does that.

“What are you working on now?”

Another shrug. “A bungalow in Walnut Creek. It was a real shithole, but it’s coming along.”

Walnut Creek is a suburb of Chicago, up-and-coming with a decent school district. Cute little town.

“Did you gut it yourself?”

“Mostly. I have some help on occasion, but nothing blows off steam like demolition work, or pounding a nail into a two-by-four, or grouting tile.”

Wow. “You can do all that?”

“Yeah—I’m a licensed contractor.”

“What!”

“I went to school for business, but a few years ago went and got my contractor’s license in the state of Illinois so I’d have something to fall back on. Just in case.”

Huh. “Just in case what?”

“In case the baseball thing didn’t work out.”

For some reason, I find that funny and laugh. “Um—it’s working out.”

“But you never know—nothing is a sure thing. What if I get hurt and break my hand tomorrow? Then what?”

“Well, then you’re screwed because you won’t be able to do demolition or swing a hammer to drive a nail into a two-by-four.”

He tilts his head. “Shit, I never thought of it that way.”

I preen. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“That’s more doom and gloom than uplifting motivation.”

We laugh.

“Do you have more than one project going?” I’m sincerely interested.

“Three.”

“Three?!” Why do I keep shouting? Tone it down a notch, for crying out loud. He’s going to think you’re a lunatic.

But he laughs instead, and I relax. “Yup, three. The one in Walnut Creek, a studio downtown, and a brownstone in Bucktown.”

“And you live closer to Noah Harding?”

He nods. “My house isn’t as fancy as his though.”

As if that matters. “Does that bother you?”

“Empty houses bother me.”

“Why?”

“They’re not supposed to be empty—they’re supposed to be filled with people. Families and shit.”

There he goes again, melting my ovaries with this roundabout talk of wives and kids and white picket fences.

It makes me shiver, and he notices. “You cold?”

Instead of admitting that his words turn me on the slightest bit, I lie. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and hits the air conditioning, turns it off. “Better?”

Great, now I’m hot. “So much better.”

Satisfied, he drives on.

Trace

Mom: Hey sweetie! Hope you made it home okay, haven’t heard from you in a few hours…

Trace: Hey Mom—yup, made it home about an hour ago.

Mom: And Hollis? Is she with you?

Trace: No, I dropped her off at her place.

Mom: Oh.

Trace: Lol you sound disappointed. Should I run and bring her back?

Mom: Haha very funny. Don’t be cheeky.

Mom: Did she have a good time?

Trace: Yeah, she thinks you’re a great cook.

Mom: Well we loved meeting her. When will you bring her back?

Trace: I don’t know, Ma. I could have done without you dragging out the photo albums and TUCKING US INTO BED.

Mom: I was just making sure she was comfortable.

Trace: What if I had been naked when you opened the door?

Mom: I knew you wouldn’t be. I raised you better than that.

Trace: But I could have been.

Mom: Why are you so stubborn? Just like your brother.

Trace: Mom…

Mom: What’s her number, dear? I was going to invite her to sit with us at your next game

Trace: MOM DON’T YOU DARE

Mom: Why are you shouting?

Trace: MOM DO NOT

Mom: I’m sorry. Did you say something?

Trace: MOTHER. DO NOT.

Trace: MOM.

Trace: Answer me!

Three hours later…

Trace: I hate myself right now.

15

Hollis

The last thing I wanted to do was another lunch with Dad, but—here I am. Correction: here I am at lunch with my dad, brother, and sister, who are all at the stadium this week, working on whatever it is they work on up in their offices.