CHAPTER NINE #2
“But you got the injury from doing your job. They must owe you something for that, right?” She looks at me pointedly, as if this solves the entire dilemma. I wish it did.
“It isn’t personal to them. It’s business. And it’s not always fair.” My words are making her brows furrow harder, so I add, “But you don’t need to worry about it, Case. I’ll figure it out.”
“I told you not to worry, and now you’re telling me not to worry,” she says, a smile curling her lips. “Who’s going to not worry first?”
I watch her for a moment, enjoying the pretty lines of her face, the wisps of brunette hair escaping her ponytail. “I’m not gonna win this game.”
She laughs softly. “Call your agent. And I will continue worrying quietly over here.”
I do as I’m told, drawing a deep breath through my nose as I wait for him to answer. He picks up on the second ring, sounding breathless as he always does.
“Keegan! I’m so glad you called.”
“What’s up, Neil?”
“Oh, just getting some new endorsements locked in. You got any time for a little side quest in a couple weeks?”
Some of the tension flees my shoulders. He’s not calling to let me know I’ve been demoted. I still have a job. For now. “I’ve got time for whatever you say next.”
“The makers of the BioCool ice bath want a new face for their ad campaign. However—hear me out on this part—they want someone who’s injured. You’re a high-profile athlete who’s in the sports news enough that you’re their top pick.”
“Oh.” Some of that tension returns. “So they need someone famously injured and unable to play. Got it.”
“They’re pushing the sports recovery angle hard, and they want you.
Plus they know you’ll take your shirt off for the camera.
” In the background, cars honk, and I can only imagine where he’s rushing off to.
Neil represents so many athletes I don’t know how he finds the time to eat each day.
“I know the injury is a sore spot with you right now. But if the money is right…”
“It might be the last money I’ll see as a working athlete, is what I’m thinking.” The words taste bitter on their way out.
Neil sighs. “We don’t know that. The draft later this month will give us some clues, but I’m not giving up on you. This isn’t the end of the road for you, Keegan.”
I want to believe him. I’m not usually such a negative Nelly, but I can see the writing on the wall—and I’m not na?ve enough to look away.
“I’ll take the endorsement deal,” I finally say.
“Just keep working your ass off in rehab. You’ll be back on the ice in September if I have anything to say about it.”
“Thanks, Neil.” I hang up, feeling equal parts relieved and anxious. I recognize that call for what it is—a delay. I haven’t gotten the bad news yet. But it could still come.
“Endorsement deal, huh?” Casey looks intrigued.
“One of the many perks of being a professional athlete,” I say, which makes something conflicted twist at her features for a moment. “They want me in an ice bath ad campaign, which means I’ll probably have to get half-naked on camera.”
“Sounds like a dick-shrinking good time,” she cracks. Then her eyes go wide. “Probably not a great tagline for their campaign.”
“No, I don’t think they’ll be using that one.” Though I could make my dick grow in an ice bath just from imagining what I’d find underneath that Crushers blanket if I lifted it off her right now.
Casey must have received my subliminal nudge because she tosses the blanket off, revealing those long, sun-kissed legs I spend too much time thinking about.
She’s wearing super short shorts that have scrunched up into the V between her legs, which is immediately where my gaze goes.
Fuck. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to think about anything other than tugging those shorts down and exploring the heat beneath.
I need to leave ASAP. I toss back the rest of my coffee, determined to get started with my day. Besides, if I stay here too much longer, I’ll have to go jack off a second time, and it’s barely eight thirty.
“All right. I’m out.” I rush past her as she stretches, determined not to get another glimpse of those legs I wish would be wrapped around my waist. I rinse my mug and grab my keys and duffel bag on my way out the door, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Case.”
Once the front door slams behind me and I’m in the still, warm, morning air, I take a deep breath.
I’ve got to get my head straight.
But right now, I can’t tell if keeping focused on the rehab ahead of me involves never looking at Casey again or taking a risk to see if she’s feeling this attraction too.
Relationships are a no-go right now. I already know this.
But is sex off the table?
As my truck rumbles to life and I’m buckling up, the idea really starts to make more sense.
Maybe you just need to release some pressure.
If I found out Casey wanted me too, I’d be all over her. And it wouldn’t have to turn into a distracting, permanent situation.
In fact, getting it out of my system would probably help me focus better.
I smile to myself as I pull out of my driveway, liking this logic.
Maybe fucking can lead to focus.
All I can do is try to find out.