“But you’re a better player than he is. That’s what I don’t understand. You’re the starter. Not him.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m faster than he is, and my arm’s stronger. But T-Bo . . . He’s this wizard. Even with his vision thing, he can find a receiver where nobody else can, and the way he reads a defense . . . It’s like he’s got ESP. I have to learn how to do what he does.”
“Even if it means putting up with his abuse?”
“Me and T-Bo . . . We have an understanding. I love the guy.” He regarded her more sharply. “Now when it comes to T-Bo and women . . . you might want to be careful.”
“You don’t have to warn me. I’ve never been more clearheaded about anyone. No man is going to derail me.” She could see he didn’t believe her, and she tried to explain. “The three of us . . . You, Thad, me . . . We’re not like most other people. Our work comes first.”
He nodded and then grinned. “Do you want to mess with him?”
She tilted her head. “What do you have in mind?”
* * *
Where the hell was she? When he’d returned to the hotel and found the suite empty, he’d texted her and gotten no response. Then he’d texted the idiot he’d stupidly left to watch her.
Crickets.
He stalked to the lobby and talked to a bellman who’d seen Garrett drive off with The Diva in his Maserati GT convertible.
Thad told himself she’d be fine. The idiot wasn’t an idiot. He’d keep her safe. But . . .
She should have been sound asleep here in the suite with Garrett standing guard outside her bedroom door.
He paced the floor like a parent waiting for a kid who’d violated curfew.
Half an hour passed. An hour. Finally, he heard them laughing in the hallway. Fucking laughing!
The door opened. She was all rumpled. Her dress had a swirly skirt, her hair was down and tangled, and she was barefoot, carrying her heels. What mainly struck him about Garrett was how young the kid looked. The epitome of youthful manliness. No fine lines webbed his eyes, no brackets ridged his mouth, and he’d bet anything that Garrett’s knees didn’t creak when he got out of bed in the morning.
Thad kept his voice in control, but he still sounded like a reprimanding parent. “Where have you been?”
“At a club,” Olivia said brightly.
“A club?” He lost it, venting his anger on Garrett. “You took her to a club?”
The kid shrugged. “She’s a wild one.”
Thad turned on Olivia. “What about your voice? What kind of opera singer goes to a nightclub where the noise level is off the fucking decibel chart?”
Her smile was maddeningly serene. “I didn’t talk.”
“She’s a great dancer,” Garrett said quickly.
“You are, too.” She gave the kid all kinds of smiles.
&nbs
p; Garrett glanced uneasily at Thad. “I guess it’s time I go.”
“Good guess,” Thad snarled.
One of Garrett’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, and then, out of nowhere, he called an audible. In the sneak play of the century, he kissed The Diva with pinpoint accuracy, right on the lips—a full-on, wide open, All Pro, forward pass . . .
. . . with an eligible receiver kissing him right back.
Thad leaped forward.