Chapter 7
Mia
Clarke Murphy hovers over me as I type the last few sentences of my article and send the e-mail to my editor.
She flips her long, brown hair over her shoulder and sits beside my desk.
Dressed in the tight skirt and pink top she wore last night, she sets our breakfast on my desk and peels back the paper on her breakfast sandwich.
She sinks her teeth into the bagel, chomping loudly in my ear. “You’re going to make a name for yourself with this one, Mia. It’s one of your best stories.”
I shrug against my chair. “Maybe. I need something better than possible embezzlement of school funds. The drug ring running out of Old City Records could be a goldmine.”
Her eyes and mouth widen at the same time. “It could also be dangerous. If you want to take down criminals, you have to get in bed with them.”
“Whenever I have a lead, they switch their operation.”
“What if the person feeding you the information is the one running the ring, and they’re trying to divert your attention?”
I bite into my sandwich. An explosion of cheese and bacon hits my tongue, turning me into a ravenous beast. If only I could afford to eat this good every day.
Freelance journalism pays well if you can dig up the right dirt, but I haven’t found enough information to make the quick cash I need to cover the bills.
“We could work on a sting operation together.” Clarke lifts the coffee mug on the desk in front of her and chugs the rest of the liquid before slamming it down with a thud. “Another set of hands and eyes are better than one. I mean, that’s if you want my help.”
“Yeah, I’d love some.” I swivel in my chair, and Clarke has to scoot hers back to make space for me. “It’s a date.”
My cubicle is so small we have to sit knee-to-knee, chomping down our food as we plot our next move.
Clarke says between bites, “Would you mind tagging along with me today? I have to interview your brother and his teammates. You know how I feel about your brother. No offense, but he’s such an ass.”
“None taken. I’m the only girl he’s not a total jerk to, so I get it.” I bite the inside of my cheek and think it over. “Yeah, I guess I can help you out. Things are kinda awkward right now. The apartment my brother shares with Ethan Waters flooded. They’re staying with me for a few weeks.”
Her mouth opens in shock. “You have Ethan crashing at your place? I’m so jealous right now. He’s insanely hot.”
I snort. “Don’t be. He’s a world-class dickhead and a manwhore. You’re too good for him.”
“But…” she counters, holding her finger out in front of her, “… I bet he’s amazing in bed.”
His naked body and thick cock creep into my mind for a second too long. Ethan has invaded not only my life and apartment but also my mind.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I confess. “But after what I saw this morning, you might be right about that.”
She giggles. “You saw Ethan naked already, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“Now I’m even more jealous than I was before.”
I lift a stack of papers from my desk and stand. “Ethan is the last person I want to think about before I’ve had the chance to drink my second cup of coffee. We have a staff meeting. Hurry up and finish your sandwich before we’re late.”
She stuffs the remaining piece of her breakfast bagel into her mouth and mumbles something I can’t make out between bites.
“We’re going to have so much fun teaming up.” A tiny squeal escapes her lips, and I try to hide my disgust about Ethan. He makes me so angry I could spit, especially after the bathroom stunt he pulled this morning.
“I’m not looking forward to the interview with the Flyers,” I admit. “But I’ll do this for you.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and grabs a notepad and pen from my desk before following me out of my cubicle.
“You’re no fun… all business and no pleasure.
Maybe you should consider hooking up with Ethan.
It might be good for you. When was the last time you had sex?
For real, girl, you could use a little bit of Ethan Waters in you. ”
I laugh at her stupidity, hoping no one heard her as we walk through the crowded office and to the conference room in the back. “I think I can live without him.”
I’ve done it for years.
“I still can’t believe Ethan Waters, of all people, is staying at your apartment.” Clarke shakes her head, laughing. “You’re in trouble, girl. I bet you won’t last a week without jumping into bed with him.”
“Wanna bet?” I quip, wondering if there’s some truth to her words.
She flashes a crooked smile and then winks at me. “Good luck with that.”
After this morning, I won’t make it another day with Ethan. This might be a bet I can’t win.
I almost finished the staff meeting without thinking about Ethan and his cocky smirk.
Almost. And I almost made it to the Wells Fargo Center, where our pro basketball and hockey teams play, without fantasizing about him naked.
I haven’t been able to get Ethan out of my head.
Somehow, he manages to annoy me even when we’re apart.
As I walk through the front doors of the event center with Clarke, I spot a woman with blonde hair waiting by the escalators.
She seems lost, staring into space and glancing up at the ceiling.
I do a double-take and realize she’s Regan Turner, head of communications for the Flyers, and daughter of Mike Turner, the general manager.
“Regan,” I say as we approach.
Her face lights up when she sees us and waves.
I wave and walk over to her with Clarke at my side. Regan closes the distance between us, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail over her shoulder.
She extends her hand to me and studies my face for a second. “Hey, I know you. You’re Will Roman’s younger sister. Mia, right?”
I nod. “And this is Clarke Murphy,” I say, pointing at my co-worker and friend.
“It’s O’Connor now,” Regan says, holding out her hand, the massive diamond ring gleaming on her finger.
“You got married. Congrats!”
She smiles. “I married a sexy video game developer. I’m helping him run his start-up company. My replacement starts next month.”
I pat her on the shoulder. “Good for you. I bet you’re dying to get away from all these professional athletes. They can be a real pain in the ass. I would know.”
She laughs. “Yeah, you do. Your brother is an interesting man. Well, we’re happy to have you here today,” she says with a polite smile. “If you follow me, I’ll take you to meet the team.”
Regan looks incredible and dressed in a black mid-length skirt that fits her petite frame perfectly. Standing beside her, I look frumpy. I feel underdressed in a pair of casual pants and a loose sweater.
We exchange pleasantries as we walk down the hall, the nerves creeping up the back of my throat. Most of the time, nothing fazes me. I rarely get anxious about interviewing a subject. Ethan pops into my head again, and sickness brews in my stomach.
I have to focus.
I’m not here for Ethan.
I’m not even here for the other players. This is my job, not an extension of my personal life, even though the Flyers are like family.
After Ethan left, I searched for him, even though I had no idea where to start.
Because of his absence and the unanswered questions he left behind, I decided to major in journalism at Strickland University, where Ethan was supposed to attend college with my brother.
I’m still climbing the ladder at The Philadelphia Inquirer, hoping to one day become a real investigative journalist.
All of the good stories are handed to reporters with more seniority.
So, I must wait my turn and bide my time until I make my lucky break.
I could make a name for myself with a case like the Old City Records drug ring, a story I’ve been following for months.
But every single lead has taken me down a road to nowhere, proving to waste my time.
As we enter the press room, my eyes immediately fall on Ethan as if drawn to him. My insides clench from the pang of desire mixed with hatred for my older brother’s best friend. If only he were still the boy I once knew. Then, it would make these unwanted emotions less annoying.
Ethan slides his chair out from the table, his legs spread wide, and my mind drifts to dirty places.
He gives me a sexy-as-fuck look, the corner of his mouth turning up into one of his signature smirks.
My heart beats faster, adrenaline shooting through my veins from Ethan’s intoxicating effect on my body.
I want him even though I shouldn’t step within ten feet of him. He probably has diseases from all the puck bunnies he’s hooked up with over the years. Yeah, I’ll go with that excuse. Lying to myself is easier than admitting my feelings for the man I loathe or at least try to hate.
With his eyes fixed on me, Ethan drags his hand up his thigh and pats it, telling me to sit. Asshole.
“Baby sis,” Will says, cutting through the group of muscular hockey players to get to me. He pulls me into a hug and taps me hard on the back. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
I cough as he releases me, stepping out of his rib-breaking bear hug. “Clarke asked me to tag along.”
“Clarke,” he says with disdain, peeking over my shoulder at Clarke, who’s talking to the general manager. “The Inquirer couldn’t send someone else with you?”
“This is Clarke’s interview.” I lean closer and lower my voice. “Would you please be nice to Clarke? She’s my only real friend. You are always at each other’s throats whenever you’re in the same room.”
He snorts. “I’m not at her throat. She’s just a pain in my ass.”
“Why? Because she calls you out on your shit?”
Will crosses his arms over his thick chest and sighs. “She’s annoying, is all.”
“There’s more to it than that,” I spit back. “Look, I’d much rather work on more important stories, so please be nice and don’t waste our time.”
He snorts, moving his hands to the pockets of his track pants. “Making the playoffs is kind of a big deal.”