Chapter 16
Johnson
When Grace texted me to talk, my heart rate spiked. Not because of whatever she needed for the auction, but because I hadn’t heard her voice in three weeks.
Be cool, I told myself as the phone connected.
I try to pay attention to her words more than the soft lyrical sound of her voice. It’s a struggle. But once she fully explains what she needs from me, I know my answer.
“I’m up for this challenge, I promise, Grace.”
Not wanting to hang up yet when I finally have her on the line, I bring the conversation in a different direction.
“So, you think Landon is going to be okay with this? Want to talk to Rori?”
Grace sighs. “I really hope they can work things out. You know how miserable he is right now, and Rori seems sincere in wanting to repair their relationship.”
“Well, it’s good of you to set this up.”
“Landon’s either going to be very grateful, or super irritated with me, but at least they have a shot.”
A shot we won’t have, I can’t help thinking.
And when we hang up soon afterward, two things hang in the air around me. That beautiful voice of hers, and my frustration over lost chances.
The auction night comes, and I’m ready to play my role. All my roles—making conversation with the guests as a co-chair and face of the team, encouraging the wealthy attendees from the Orlando community to place large bids, and managing my part in the Landon-Rori situation.
Do I feel a little bad about keeping this secret from Landon? Yeah. But I’m hopeful it’s a good kind of secret. One that will lead to a happy result for him.
Plus, Grace asked me to help. So there’s that.
After a cocktail hour of schmoozing and shaking hands with various attendees, most of them passing acquaintances, I’m grateful that Grace had assigned me to a table with Waves players and their significant others. Everything is mellow and uneventful through dinner.
Until Grace steps on stage to start the auction, that is.
Holy shit. When she appears, I put down my fork, unable to do anything but take her in.
She’s wearing a form-fitting pale orange cocktail dress with heels that must add three inches to her five foot six frame. The lace covering her dress makes it look delicate and feminine. Ethereal.
The sides of her hair are pulled back in a soft bun, with some tendrils framing her face, and the length of her long blonde hair swims down her back. Her eyes are lit up from the beaming spotlights, and as she glances around, she’s wearing a huge smile.
She’s golden. My golden Grace.
The experience of seeing her for the first time after three weeks—after holding her in my arms three weeks ago—is eye-opening.
I haven’t lost one iota of attraction to her, and tonight is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I’ve met countless beautiful women—beautiful inside and out. But there’s something about her that’s different. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming “HER.”
Clearly, my skills in pushing down my attraction to her are suffering in the wake of our mutual confessions.
Fuck. I need to pull it together.
I tear my eyes away from her and try to regroup, taking one last bite of my now-cold steak. After a couple of minutes of looking around the room at the other tables, I get myself collected.
Peering at Landon next, I see he’s watching Grace and her co-host, Roderick, with rapt attention. He told me about something he wanted to bid on as a present for Grace later in the auction, so he’s probably staying alert for when it’s up for grabs.
An hour later, though, we rock his world. They announce Rori’s donation, and she steps out on stage.
He looks shocked, and clocks me grinning at him.
“You knew?”
I can’t help teasing him, but hey—it’s all to follow Grace’s instructions and make sure he bids. “You better win this. Or I will.” I wink at him to drive the point home.
To ensure I deliver for Grace, I have a couple of plans working in tandem. I’ll bid myself if I need to, but nothing works better than a little fear that someone else will win time with his girl.
So I keep poking the bear.
“Let’s do this!” I yell out towards the stage.
Grace laughs, probably guessing I’m being a troublemaker to advance our cause. Seeing her reaction makes me want to dig into my mission harder.
“Starting bids at $500,” Grace’s co-host Roderick announces. “An awesome package from Rori, and all for a good cause. Do we have any bidders?”
The bids begin flying in—$550, $600—and I look over at Landon, who appears paralyzed.
I better make a move.
“I bid $2,000!” A collective gasp goes through the room as soon as I shout the number. Even Grace’s looking at me with a shocked expression. Guess she didn’t know exactly how dedicated I would be to helping her.
“Wow, you must really want those tennis lessons,” Roderick says.
I swing my gaze back to Landon, and yeah—I woke him up. He looks…growly. Like he’s about to burst through an offensive line and lay out the quarterback. Hopefully not me, now, here.
From the crowd, another bid comes in. “$2,100!” Shit, it’s from the real estate developer Thompson Smith, who I’d called and convinced to come tonight.
I get ready to raise my paddle again, but then Landon beats me to it.
“$3,000,” he shouts, again to many whispers from the crowd. The man looks heated now.
A female voice shouts out the next bid. “$3,100.”
I look around to see who it was, but before I can pinpoint the source, another bid comes from Landon.
“$10,000!” He says it so loudly I swear my glass of water shakes.
He then turns right to me, and in a whisper only I can hear with all the ambient noise, adds: “and she’s mine.”
Never discount the power of a little competition, I guess. Of course, I have no interest in Rori, but my best friend is in a state right now, so I’m not going to expect him to be rational at the moment.
Once I hold up my hands to Roderick indicating I’m out, he makes it final. “Okay, the bid winner is Mr. Battle. Enjoy that time with Rori!”
“Oh, he will!” I yell, hoping to cause Grace to laugh again.
But then I turn to Landon and clear things up so he doesn’t stay pissed at me. “Don’t worry, brother. Even if you’d have chickened out on the bid, I would have won and handed the prize to you. Grace gave me marching orders.”
He looks surprised, and then brings his eyes back up to the stage. I do too, only it’s Grace I’m looking at, not Rori. She wears a look of satisfaction, and damn, it feels good to see.
Shortly afterwards, they close the auction portion of the night, and everyone leaves the stage.
I take a deep breath and look over at Landon. He still appears shell-shocked.
To ground him, I place a hand on his shoulder. “Go claim your prize.”
“Yeah.” He blinks, and then stands up and walks to the door that will lead him backstage for the Meet & Greet.
Meanwhile, as the dinner tables break up across the room, people start heading to the dance area.
“Alright, ladies and gents, it’s time to get your groove on,” the DJ announces as the live band sets up around him. “Live for the next hour is none other than Orlando’s own Jumping Billy’s.”
The first song they play is upbeat, and all the people who’ve made their way to the dance floor get moving to the tunes. I see several teammates having fun, being goofy together, and I walk over to join them for a song.
“Show us what you got, QB,” Carter teases me.
I don’t have much by way of dance skills, but no one cares, thankfully.
The next song has a fast rhythm too, and I stay with the group, while also making sure to nod to any non-player attendees who recognize me. I can tell by the way their glazes linger on me, something I’m used to as a starting quarterback at this level.
“Thank you for coming,” I try to mouth to as many of them as I can while dancing. I know they’ll remember that I acknowledged them, and it’s part of the discipline I’ve adopted to represent the team well.
About half-way through the song, a movement by the backstage door catches my eye. When I focus my attention there, I notice Grace slipping into the main event room, her face unreadable. She heads towards the bar area, and I decide to follow my pull to her.
“Sorry, boys, I’m going to go get a beverage,” I explain to the guys cutting up the dance floor.
As I approach the bar, Grace leans across the wooden countertop, talking to the server on the other side.
God, she’s beautiful—and hot as fuck. Yes, she looks elegant in her lace dress. But I also can’t help admiring her legs as she hovers over the bar, her strong, toned muscles doing all sorts of things for me.
She turns around after getting a drink, her eyes on the band, missing my presence.
“Grace.” My voice is loud enough to cut through the party noise, and she turns her head towards me.
I take a few more steps and then I’m right in front of her. “How did it go with Landon and Rori?”
She has a look of caution on her face. Because she doesn’t know the answer? Or because of our own dynamic?
“It’s hard to say yet. I can tell Landon has mixed emotions. I think he’ll eventually give in to what he wants though—to be with her.”
A struggle I relate to more than she knows.
“And how are you feeling?” She must be proud of how the evening went, but I want to give her space to voice that.
That question does evoke a big smile, and my world tilts a bit. She’s a golden ray of light now in front of me instead of on the stage.
“It was incredible. I can’t believe how much money we raised.”
Has anyone given her the credit she deserves for that? If not, I will. “Thanks to you.”
She blushes and then, as we’re both silent for a moment, she takes a sip of her drink.
Suddenly the music changes to a slower song, and couples pair up. A wistful expression passes over her face.
Does she want to dance? Is she wishing she was here with someone?
Hell, I’ll dance with her in a heartbeat if that’s what she wants. I may be nervous about crossing a line with her, but it’s only a dance.
Just ask her, a voice says. Let her decide.
Fuck it.
“Will you dance with me, Grace?”
She looks at me, seemingly considering the offer. It’s really hard to read her expression in the dim lights near the dance floor. But then I get the answer I want.
“Yes, one dance.” She puts her drink down on the counter.
It’s been a minute since I’ve slow danced with anyone, but I snap to it as soon as I realize it’s my move next.
I put my right hand out, and she places her left on top of it.
Whooph. A jolt of electricity flies up my right arm once our hands meet.
In that moment, I realize it’s the first time we’ve touched like this. Whether it was our college hookup or our hug earlier this month, nothing else between us has held the gentle intimacy of this moment.
We both stare where our hands meet, not dancing yet.
“Your skin is so soft.”
Oh shit, how did that slip out? Where did my ‘Landon’s Sister, Off Limits’ mindset go?
I look up at her in alarm, worried she’ll be skittish with the compliment.
Instead, her eyes look like she’s lost in some reverie herself.
Let me not make a simple dance too deep. I squeeze her hand and tug her gently out onto the dance floor. When we reach an open spot, I stop and turn.
Slowly, finally, I bring my left arm around her back and bring her closer, my hand resting on the top of her left hip, and we start to sway.
“You okay?” I keep my voice low and bring my head next to hers, resting along her blonde waves.
She nods—which I feel more than see from this position.
“I can lead us.”
“Okay.” Her tone is quiet, almost shy-sounding. Is she as affected by this moment as I am?
The song has a steady beat, even if slow, and I let it carry my motions as I lead our dance.
I know. I know. I’m pushing the boundaries I set for myself. Landon’s sister.
But then a dangerously raw thought flashes through my mind.
She might be the most precious thing I’ve held in my arms since my newborn nephew.
Ummm.
I’m so screwed.
Trying to keep myself grounded, I start making small talk.
“How wild was it that Landon outbid Carter for that signed Taylor Swift album?”
She gives a small giggle, maybe out of relief more than anything at the neutral topic. “I know. I can’t believe he did that for me. I’m tempted to give the album to Carter’s girlfriend anyway, she’s such a fan.” Her voice, muffled in my ear, stays low.
I keep us rocking to the music. “She was at our table, and it sounds like she already has a signed copy of that one, so I think you’re fine.”
“Oh good, because Midnights is my favorite album.”
We keep dancing, and her body relaxes as the beats of the music pass.
“Thank you again for your help, Johnson. Not just with Landon, but with the whole auction.”
I squeeze her hand in reassurance. “Of course, and I’m sure you’ll get an A in your class after all the work you did.”
“That would be nice.”
I try to find words to acknowledge what happened with us at my house, and how I’m glad it didn’t slow her down in the planning.
“I know things have been a little…all over the place with us these last couple of months. So I’m glad it’s been smooth tonight.”
I feel her stiffen. Oh shit, did I say something wrong?
“Yes, it’s been smooth.” Her voice’s gone from soft to icy in a millisecond.
“Did I say some—“
“I need to check on the rest of the staff, in case anyone needs help.”
And with that, she breaks our contact and walks off.
All I want to do is protest, bring her back into my embrace. There are so many people around us though, and she’s already too far away.
So I just whisper to myself.
“No problem, thanks for the dance.”