“So I’ll use another firm.”
I shake my head and place my mug on the coffee table. “Switching now would not be beneficial to your career or the case pending against you. Drastic measures such as that usually lead people to think you’re guilty, and that’s the last thing we want. Besides, who’s to say we’d even work out as a couple? You like women far too much.”
He looks away, unable to deny my statement. The last thing I would ever do is enter into a relationship with him, knowing that he has a wandering eye and hands that can’t seem to stay at his sides.
I take our mugs back into the kitchen and busy myself with washing them, even though they can go into the dishwasher. Being away from him allows my mind to clear and my body to stop trying to pull him near. I jump when a strong arm wraps around me and the other shuts off the water. I’m cocooned in a blanket of warmth as he presses into my back. My traitorous body sags against his as he nestles into my neck.
“Travis.”
“I only want to hold you,” he says, his words ghosting over my shoulder. I can give him this moment while we’re protected in my home, but nothing else. My heart would never survive being broken by him, but right now he needs some comfort. And I rather enjoy the way his arms feel around me. I wrap my arms around his, and he squeezes me tighter. His body sighs, while mine goes a mile a minute, reminding me that he isn’t wearing any pants, and my lady bits scream out for attention.
Earlier in the gym, I let him get the best of me. From the moment I saw his sweat-laden body, mine craved his, and I think he knew it. When he kissed me, I gave in to temptation, submitted to the desire that I feel for him each time he’s near, and more so since I’ve seen him more in the past few days than I have in months.
He turns me in his arms, and his erection brushes against me. Travis’s hand cups my cheek as his lips descend onto mine. The kiss is tender but full of emotion, and when his tongue enters my mouth, I whimper.
I want more when he pulls away. His thumb caresses my lip as he smiles, even though there’s sadness in his eyes. I want to take it all away for him, but I can’t.
“I would never hurt you, Saylor.”
Believing him, trusting him with my heart, would be stupid. I did that once with Lucy’s father, and while I may have won in the end with the birth of Lucy, the heartbreak was almost too much to handle.
“I want to believe that is true.”
“I’ll prove it. If you give me a chance.”
I shake my head, causing him to drop his hand from my face. Instead of stepping away and asking him to leave, I guide him over to the couch and pull him down next to me. I can be here for him and provide him comfort, but opening my heart to someone like him is impossible.
It’s late, and I know I have a busy day ahead of me, but the thought of leaving Travis alone doesn’t sit well. Reaching for the remote, I turn on the television and flip to a movie channel that I know won’t show anything about the scandal.
“I think I’ve seen this one,” he says, causing me to look at him. “The wife had an affair, and the other wife goes after the mistress’s husband.”
My mouth drops open as I look at him, and he shrugs.
“What?”
“You watch Lifetime?”
“Of course—how else do I know what women want?” He kisses me again, quickly, even though he knows nothing will ever come of it. I shake my head and laugh. Who knew that a guy like Travis Kidd was in tune with his feminine side?
Nine
Travis
Sneaking out of my house is something I’ve never had to do, even when I was a teenager. My parents didn’t care what I did, as long as my grades were kept up and I wasn’t breaking any laws. At other people’s houses, I’ve definitely jumped out of windows and shimmied down drainpipes. I even busted my arm sliding off the roof of a house of some girl I met at a basketball game. That act alone almost ruined my chances of playing ball my junior year of high school.
When you’re running because you’re trying to escape parents who came home too early, there’s an exhilaration that courses through your body. Your adrenaline pumps, and you feel invincible. That all changes when you’re forced to sneak out of your own house
to escape the onslaught of media and the names being hurled in your direction from onlookers. It makes you feel worthless.
Walking the darkened streets of Boston, hidden under a baseball cap with my jacket pulled up against my face to thwart off the wind and rain, I felt hopeless and found myself staring at Saylor’s apartment building. I had been here a few times before, but only as far as her door. The night she left me opened my eyes. I didn’t want her to be a one-night stand, or even two nights. I wanted to get to know her, and not only in the carnal way.
If I ever thought that Saylor was a sure thing, I would’ve been fooling myself. She’s far more mature than I am. She’s career minded and focused on raising her daughter. And determined to keep me on the periphery of her life. Even as I sit next to her, with my arm resting on her shoulder and my fingers playing idly in her hair, this is as close as she’ll let me come. With the exception of what transpired earlier today and the kiss we shared in her kitchen.
She yawns, and I use this opportunity to adjust the way I’m sitting and pull her closer. Never mind the fact that she’s fully clothed and I’m clad in a somewhat damp T-shirt and my boxers. There’s something definitely wrong with this picture. It’s like my role in life has been reversed. Usually, it’s me who is fully clothed and about to walk out the door, leaving behind a barely dressed woman. But something tells me that this is the way it needs to be, even if she won’t tell me why.
I know my reputation scares her. Fuck, it scares the shit out of me. Branch Singleton, the Renegades’ designated hitter and one of my good friends, has often said I was going to end up in trouble. Well, the fucker was right, because look at me now—dealing with what I never thought would happen: a rape accusation that I can’t even defend against yet, and other women claiming the same thing. Irvin says we have to wait and see if the district attorney is going to proceed with bringing charges against me. Until then, I’m supposed to keep a low profile and stay out of trouble. What better way to do that than in the arms of my publicist?
But here I sit, holding the woman that I have a massive crush on, and who keeps telling me we can’t be together. I can’t tell if this is some twisted irony or a wicked, shitty hand being dealt my way. Either way, I don’t want to give up the fight. Deep down, I know it can be a number of things; my job and schedule aren’t exactly conducive to dating, but her job affords her the ability to be at my games. My reputation and my antics off the field aren’t doing me any favors. I know that Saylor needs someone who is going to put her first—hell, even put her daughter first—and I want to be that person. I’m not sure how, though.