I walked straight into Brody when he stopped in his tracks. “Date?”
Swallowing, I felt like I’d done something wrong. “Yes, I have a date tonight after our interview.”
“What time?”
“Eight.”
He surprised me by not discussing it any further. We walked through the bedroom into the large walk-in closet. “What do you think? Suit or something more casual?”
“I think casual. A sweater and slacks maybe.”
“Go for it.” He extended his arm toward the built-in shelves holding piles of neatly folded sweaters.
Fingering through them, I noticed every piece of clothing was folded exactly the same. “I guess you have someone who puts away your laundry for you.”
He walked up close behind me. Very close. I felt the heat from his body. His shirtless, magnificent body.
“I do. If I didn’t, you’d be sorting through a mess of clothes on the floor.”
Trying to pretend his nearness didn’t affect me, I focused on the task of picking out his outfit. Reaching up, I grabbed a navy cashmere sweater. “How about this?” I turned to show him my selection and smacked straight into the brick wall of his chest. He hadn’t budged. It was a big closet, yet there was little room between the shelves behind me and the man in front of me.
He shrugged. “If you like it, I’ll wear it.”
“You’re easy.”
“Wish I could say the same about you.”
“Something tells me if I was, you’d have already lost interest.”
“Is that what you think? That I only like the chase?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “I do. Yes. I think you enjoy the chase. I’m guessing it’s a novelty to you these days. That you’re normally the chased, not the chaser.”
He took a step closer to me; I backed up and hit the shelving behind me. Placing one forearm against the wall on either side of my head, he effectively caged me in. I should have wanted to flee from the feeling, but instead I had the sudden urge to press my body against his. Thankfully, a little self-control still existed in my brain.
He lowered his face to mine. “Who’s your date with tonight?”
“None of your business.”
He leaned in a little closer, so our lips were just inches apart. “Do you feel what you’re feeling right now when you’re near him?”
No. “Maybe.”
“Bullshit. Tell me I can kiss you.” He lowered his head and gently ran his nose along my throat. My body was buzzing like a college boy on frat initiation night.
“No.” The word came out barely above a whisper. My voice was thick and strained, clear evidence that he was getting to me.
He continued trailing his nose along my skin. The sensual touch left a stream of goose bumps in its wake. When he reached my ear, his voice was edgy and laced with need. “Tell me I can kiss you. I smell your body getting turned on. Tell me.”
My knees were trembling, and my mouth opened to finally give in. I want him to kiss me so badly.
Luckily, Nick’s voice broke the moment. “Brody, can I run a chord from—whoa . . . sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Brody responded without moving. “Do whatever you need to, Nick.”
“Yeah. All right, man,” Nick said. His footsteps rapidly receded.
It was only a few seconds of distraction. But it gave me a chance to snap out of my lust-induced haze. “This is really unprofessional of me.” I ducked under his arm and practically ran out of the closet.
I spent a few minutes composing myself in the bathroom before joining Nick in the living room. He was almost through setting up. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize your date tonight was with Brody.”
My mouth opened, but the response came from the man who entered the room behind me. “It’s not. But it fucking should be.”
I turned, finding Brody wearing the navy cashmere sweater I’d picked out and a pair of well fitting slacks. The deep blue color brought out the intensity in his eyes. Eyes that were boring into me.
“Coach needs to talk to me. I have to jump on a call for a while. Why don’t you two make yourselves at home? I’ll order some snacks from room service before I get started.”
“No problem. Thanks, Brody,” Nick said.
Then he was gone.
For almost two full hours.
Eventually, I ventured into the back to look for him. It was quiet, no indication that he was still on the phone. I knocked lightly on the bedroom door, but there was no response. So I knocked again. When there was still nothing but silence, I creaked the bedroom door open. Brody was lying in the middle of his king-size bed. Sound asleep.
“Brody?”
His eyes opened with a flutter. “It’s the woman from my dreams.”
My hands went to my hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I guess I fell asleep.”
“Before or after your fake coach’s phone call?”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Running his hands through his hair, he said, “You ready to get started?”
“I’ve been ready for more than two hours.”