Play Maker (Bitsberg Knights Duet)

“Thank you,” I said, my throat tight with emotion. “He bought me a plane ticket to go see him play in New York. I’ll be flying out tomorrow morning and be home Monday night.”

My mom’s eyes went wide. “Wow!”

“First class!” I squealed, unable to bridle my excitement any longer. I had to tell someone.

“And you couldn’t get a seat for your old man?” my dad finally chimed in, taking off his reading glasses and meeting my eyes.

Relief rushed through me. He wasn’t mad about me spending the night with Ross. “I’ll see what I can do next time.”

My dad chuckled. “All right, but if that boy gets to the Super Bowl, I fully expect him to try and bribe my affection with fifty-yard line tickets.”

I laughed and hopped up from the couch. “Thanks guys. I’m going to meet Rayna, but I’ll be home for dinner. Ross’s flying out with the team tonight.”

“All right, dear. Say hello to Rayna. We’ll see you tonight.”

“Oh, God, I remember when my parents found out I wasn’t a virgin anymore,” Rayna groaned, commiserating with me after I gave her the replay of my morning. “Granted, mine was a little more dramatic than yours.”

“Didn’t your mom walk in on you and your boyfriend? What was his name again? Richard? Robert?” I thought for a moment and then snapped my fingers. “No, it was Rick! Rick Preston. He was your booty-on-call booty call.”

Rayna laughed as she snacked on her fries. “They weren’t supposed to be home. How was I supposed to know they’d forget the camera and come back for it?”

The innocent expression on her face had me bursting to hold back my naturally too-loud laugh. The cafe we were in wasn’t fancy, but it wasn’t the type of place where I could let it rip and not garner a few strange, sideways glances. They had the best pasta salad in the city, so I put up with the borderline snobbery. “You could’ve at least had the common sense to get it on in your bedroom, not right there on the couch!”

“Right?” Rayna cackled. “Oh, to be young and dumb.”

“Newsflash, Rayn, we’re still young.”

“But not dumb anymore!” She grinned and plucked another fry from the large plate in front of her. Her smile faltered a little and my gut twisted. “I remember Hudson telling me the same thing. He said that’s what the backseat of a car was for.”

“Like he would know!” I giggled.

Rayna sighed. “I miss him, Shelby.”

I placed a hand over hers on the table. “I know, we’re gonna get your brother out. I promise.”

She nodded and waved a hand through the air. “Sorry. It’s just I know he didn’t do it.”

“I know, Rayn. I know.”

My heart ached watching her try to regain her smile. She exhaled and smiled. “Okay, enough of this whining. Tell me more, where do you think this is going? I mean, it sounds pretty serious if he’s willing to drop a grand on a plane ticket. That’s not exactly a booty call perk. At least, not that I know of, and believe me, I’ve had my fair share of those.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know where it’s headed. I mean, I just met him. And I do like him—a lot. He’s quiet and very gentlemanly, but he’s also smoldering hot and ridiculously sexy in bed.” My cheeks warmed at my own bold confession. “Honestly? I didn’t even think we would see each other after Christmas.”

“Why not?”

I sighed. “Well, the dinner was all right. For the most part. Aunt Maggie had a little too much to drink and made a few colorful comments.”

Rayna laughed. “God, I love that woman.”

“Don’t we all.” I laughed but rolled my eyes at the memory. “Anyway, she started asking about his family and he got kind of pissy and quiet. I asked him if he was okay, you know, sometimes people get weird on holidays, but he left almost as soon as the table was cleared even though I invited him to stay.”

“That’s weird.”

“I thought so. But he called the next day and we talked and then well last night happened.”

“Bow-chicka-wow-wow!”

I whipped around in my seat to make sure no one was staring at us. “Shhh!”

Rayna giggled. “Maybe he was gassy or something.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“What? That’s a real possibility! Everyone eats too much at holiday dinners. It’s a natural consequence.”

I stared at my friend like she was an alien from another planet. “I don’t think it was gas, Rayn.”

“Well, then, what do you think that was all about?” she asked, popping another fry into her mouth. “Bipolar?”

“No.” I shook my head, maybe a little too fervently. “I thought maybe he has some things in his past that are hard to talk about.”

“Hmm. Makes sense. All of us do. As long as he doesn’t regress and clam up again—or turn into a Jekyll/Hyde—I suppose you’re in the clear.”