“Congratulations on the win today, Brody. How is your knee feeling after your first game back?” I lifted my microphone high, knowing Nick was filming in close.
“I feel . . . ” He nonchalantly reached to the towel wrapped around his waist and tugged at the corner. The towel fell to the ground. “Great. I feel great. And how about you? It’s your first trip into the locker room, isn’t it? Do you like what you see so far?” His lips curled up into a full-blown wicked smile.
Before I could catch myself, my eyes dropped to his naked lower half. Shit. He was dangling in the wind. I totally got distracted by just how low the thing dangled. Subway. The nickname was damn well suited. It was probably a full minute before I responded to his question. A full minute of dead air time. Great. “Yes. Umm . . . the locker room is . . . ummm . . . nice.”
I sounded like a total ditz. On air.
The jackass continued interviewing me. “Is it as big as you thought it would be?”
“Ummm . . . it’s much bigger than I imagined.”
His smile grew even wider.
Ugh.
I needed to get back on track or my first locker room interview would become a laughingstock blooper. Viewers had no idea he was naked from the waist down. “Do you think you were at one hundred percent today?”
His eyebrows jumped. “If you’re referring to today’s game, definitely. I had one hundred percent out there on the field. There’re some other areas where I have a lot of growth potential, but my knee felt one hundred percent today.”
His pale green eyes darkened, and I watched his long lashes lower. I followed his line of sight, and suddenly I was staring at his naked package. Again. Damn it. My eyes darted back up, but I felt my cheeks heating. I had to end this, or I was going to be beet red on air.
“Well, welcome back. And congratulations on today’s win.”
I waited until Nick lowered his camera and turned off the light. Then I looked right at Brody Easton’s smug face. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
His eyes sparkled. “I do.”
I heard the chuckles and high fives at my back as I stormed out of the locker room.
Chapter 2
Brody
“Good morning, Mr. Easton.”
“Morning, Shannon. How is she this week?”
“She’s been a little down and her sleeping has been a bit off. But your Tuesday visits always seem to cheer her up. She’s up and ready for you. I think she’s in the day room.”
Grouper stopped sweeping the hall as I approached. “Grandson is going to be disappointed.”
“And that shit has nothing to do with him not getting a game ball this week. Damn kid’s named after a fish.”
Grouper chuckled and extended his hand. “You looked like shit out there yesterday.”
“You can’t sweep for crap,” I said, smiling. “I should talk to the administrator about firing your old ass. Place looks like a blind man cleans it. And I threw for two hundred twenty-eight yards . . . that’s not looking like shit. That’s me being fuck-ass spectacular.”
“Marlene’ll wash that mouth out with soap, she hears you using that language.”
He wasn’t kidding. She might be eighty years old, but the little lady still scared the shit out of me. When Willow and I first started dating, I knew it was Marlene who would chop my balls off if I hurt her granddaughter, and not her large husband.
I spent another minute exchanging insults with Grouper before heading into the day room to look for Marlene. I didn’t have to look very far. There were only a few people in the room, and the crazy old bat was the only one wearing an evening gown.
“Hot date tonight, Marlene?” She was sitting in her wheelchair; I leaned down and kissed her forehead. It took her a minute, but then her eyes smiled, and I knew today’s visit would be better than last week’s.
“Well, don’t you look handsome?”
“I always look handsome.” I wheeled her to a corner of the room and positioned her chair across from me before taking a seat on the couch.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing a tuxedo?”
Well, that explains the evening gown. As usual, I went with it. “I had practice this morning. I’m going to change in a little while.”
She nodded. “Tell my granddaughter to wear a blue dress. It will bring out her eyes.”
Willow’s eyes were a cross between sky blue and spring-grass green. If she wore blue, her eyes changed to aquamarine. If she wore green, her eyes shifted to peridot. I had always preferred it when she didn’t wear either—I could stare at those eyes all day debating which color I loved more. Unless the color she was wearing was flesh, then it wasn’t her eyes that I was as focused on.
“I’ll make sure she wears blue.”
Marlene got quiet for a few minutes, and I watched her expression, knowing she was going somewhere else. I just never knew where we’d land.
“I think someone stole my teeth.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Your teeth are in your mouth, Marlene.”