Part 17 (1/2)

Devlin playfully cuffed his half brother on the back of the head, which only made Maddox laugh more. A crowd was gathered outside the locker room. Connelly was rocking a fussy Owen, while Julianne dug in her oversized bag for a bottle. Carly waddled over to her husband, who proceeded to stroke his hand over her belly.

”I am so not looking forward to that,” Troy whined as Maddox plugged his ears.

”My sister cries like that all the time,” Maddox said before both boys disappeared into the locker room.

DeShawn laughed loudly, focusing Brody's attention on the woman he was joking with: Shannon. She stood behind the tailback, her long legs decked out in a pair of skinny jeans tucked into her cowboy boots with a sleek, puffy down jacket keeping the rest of her warm. Brody was hard just looking at her legs.

”There you are, Brody,” DeShawn was saying. ”Shay was going to sneak off, but I kept her here so you could get a proper good-luck kiss. We're not taking any chances today.”

Shannon's smile dimmed and her face became even paler, if that were possible. Those ever-present dark circles were beneath her eyes, the telltale sign she was working herself to death, as usual.

”Don't pin my bad game on Shannon,” Brody growled.

”You gotta admit, Brody, you've got some bad karma hanging around you. You need to do whatever you can to shake it off, man,” DeShawn pleaded.

Shannon muttered something beneath her breath before closing the distance between her and Brody. Something in Brody's chest squeezed as this proud, strong Texas wildcat raised her chin before gently placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

”Good luck,” she whispered, her eyes avoiding his.

”Dang, Shay, is that the best you can do? The dude played like c.r.a.p last week,” DeShawn was saying.

It had been exactly two weeks since she'd crept out of their room at the inn. Two weeks when Brody ached to make things right with her, only he didn't know how to. Still, she'd been in his house during that time, breathing the same air as he did and he'd taken solace eating the food she'd prepared. He'd caught glimpses of her at the practice facility, tamping down on the longing in his body in an effort to give her s.p.a.ce. But right now, he was done giving her s.p.a.ce.

Before DeShawn finished his sentence, Brody had tangled his fingers in Shannon's hair pulling her in for a deep, searching kiss. The sweet taste of her on his tongue and the feel of her body against his were intoxicating. Instantly, the storm that had been brewing inside his head calmed and he sank in farther to enjoy the warmth of her welcoming mouth. Her response was immediate; fisting her hands in his sweats.h.i.+rt, she angled her head to allow him better access. Desire, dark and thick, lapped at both of them before Shannon suddenly tensed in his arms. Pulling away abruptly, this time her eyes did meet his; they were bright and damp.

Brody reached out to pull her off to the side, where he could speak privately to her, to somehow make peace with her, but she slipped free of his grasp and hurried down the long hallway to the stadium concourse as a sob escaped her throat. He opened his mouth to call after her, before thinking better of it. Apparently, he'd already given the crowd congregating at the locker room door enough to talk about.

”d.a.m.n, Brody, I told you to kiss the woman, not make her cry.” DeShawn glared at him before stalking into the locker room.

Juggling a still-fussy Owen and her big diaper bag, Julianne chased after Shannon, but not before leveling a fierce scowl at Brody. Carly trotted behind her, cursing him as she went. He felt like he was in the middle of a really bad dream when his sister Bridgett emerged from the shadows, a pitying look on her face. Shaking her head, she trailed after the other women.

”Shake it off, Janik. I mean it. Kickoff is in an hour,” Devlin demanded as he and Connelly entered the locker room.

But Brody couldn't shake it off. He ran his routes perfectly, but somehow the ball wouldn't stay in his hands. Making matters worse, DeShawn went down with a thigh injury midway through the first half, thereby eliminating any sort of running game. For the first time in Brody's career, the boo-birds chorused as he made his way to the locker room after a second consecutive Blaze loss, this one not close at all.

The locker room was quiet, the players keeping to themselves while they shed their pads and dirty uniforms. A few of the receivers whispered hushed comments, peeking over their shoulders at him, but Brody ignored them. The media would be coming in a few minutes and he wanted to make sure he was long gone by then, avoiding the painful locker-front interviews. Normally, only the coach and the quarterback addressed the postgame press conference, so he wasn't obligated to stay.

”Janik,” Devlin called across the locker room as Brody headed for the safety of the shower. ”Be here at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.”

A few snickers escaped from the offensive line, but the rest of the team was silent as Brody nodded, making his way to the showers in disgrace. As he let the warm spray pummel his body, he knew that no amount of playing fetch with his quarterback was going to fix what was bothering him. It was ironic that the one woman who managed to keep his blood sugar under control had managed to mess up every other part of his body. The conundrum that was Shannon Everett had taken hold of him-and his mojo-and wouldn't let go.

THE GIRLFRIENDS' GUIDE TO THE NFL Number ochenta is definitely down on his luck. Some might even say cursed. After his reckless weekend in Vermont, every girl's favorite tight end seems to be having trouble keeping his eye on the ball. Probably because his eyes are too busy mooning over his very off-again girlfriend, PhD student Shannon Everett. Miss Everett, need we remind you, is the not-so-better-looking twin sister of Dallas Cowboys cheerleader Teryn Everett. Apparently brains don't make up for beauty, because according to sources within the Blaze organization, this Everett sister has left our Brody high and dry, taking his game-day confidence with her.

Eighteen.

”d.a.m.n it, Hank! I want whoever is writing this bulls.h.i.+t found. And when you do, I'm going to rip their teeth out with my bare hands!”

”Whoa, Brody, calm down.” The Blaze GM motioned for Brody to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Brody had been feeling twitchy ever since that blogger's ugly words appeared on the Internet earlier that morning. His knee banged the side of Hank's desk as he tried to sit still.

”I can't calm down, Hank. It'd be different if this was just embarra.s.sing me, but it's not. She's after the whole team and Shannon as well. I can't stand by and let whoever this is get away with it.”

Hank sighed. ”Brody, right now Donovan, the league, and every other club all have people looking for this blogger. Unfortunately, even if she is found, it's going to be hard to shut her down. The crux of the matter is everything she's reported has been factual.”

Brody sprung from his chair. ”I didn't tear up a hotel room playing some kinky s.e.x game or fighting with Shannon!”

Hank held a hand up to quiet him down. ”But you did damage that room, Brody, didn't you?”

d.a.m.n. Brody slumped back into his chair.

”And you have had a little trouble on the field these past two weeks.” The GM ignored Brody's scowl and continued. ”While I think it's admirable that you want to protect Shay from all this, she needs to know some of this comes with the territory of dating a superstar. You can't always control how you are portrayed in the media. She's a smart woman and I think she knows how these things work. On the flip side, Brody, you're getting paid a lot of money to keep all of this off the field. Let us worry about shoring up the leaks within our clubhouse and you worry about catching the football. That's your only job right now.”

Feeling chastised, Brody headed for the door.

”Brody,” Hank's voice stopped him. ”Are you sure that's all that's bothering you? You usually don't rattle so easily.”

There were a lot of things bothering Brody right now, one of them a time bomb that-if it were revealed-wouldn't leave Hank looking so calm. Obviously, he needed to play things a lot cooler or the GM would sniff the real reason Brody was feeling so twitchy. Hank was right; getting his game back in synch was the most important thing right now. ”It's all good.”

”I hope so,” Hank said as Brody stepped out into the hallway.

Me, too, Brody thought. Me, too.

An hour later, after three unanswered calls to Shannon, Brody stood near the goalpost of the Blaze practice field. The rain peppering the roof of the bubble matched his demeanor. He'd just finished a lengthy conversation with his manager, Roscoe, who kept hinting about bringing on a sports shrink. Brody didn't need a shrink. He just needed a few minutes-or a few days-alone with Shannon to work things out, only she'd gone into hiding. Bridgett was suspiciously missing from his house, too, making Brody think his sister was responsible for Shannon's disappearance.

A football suddenly whizzed by his head, missing his left ear by mere centimeters. Brody jumped, looking over his shoulder to see Matt Richardson standing thirty yards downfield, palming another football. Despite being fifteen years out of the game, the coach could still throw it. The second ball ricocheted off the crossbar of the goalpost, nearly clocking Brody in the head.

Brody shuffled to the sideline, retrieving one of the b.a.l.l.s.

”Hey there, Coach. Where's Devlin?” The quarterback had texted him earlier, saying he was going to be late but he didn't mention their coach joining them.

”Home. Resting his arm. The last thing I need is him wearing himself out trying to get you out of your love funk.”

Another bullet. Brody had to react fast to catch it in the bread basket.

”You're stuck with me.” Coach didn't bother to disguise the menacing glee in his voice. He loved nothing more than to air out his own arm in practice once in a while. Somehow, Brody didn't think today was going to be one of those fun catch-and-release workout sessions.

”I told you what would happen if you made that girl cry.” Coach launched the ball like a laser, this one nearly catching him in the family jewels, and Brody cursed. That particular part of his body was suffering enough already.

He had no trouble figuring out who that girl was that Coach was talking about. The skeleton crew and players who ventured into the practice facility on Mondays had all wasted no time giving him the cold shoulder. Brody didn't have to wonder whose camp they were all firmly in. But he did take exception to the fact that everyone a.s.sumed Shannon was the only miserable one here.

”Run a post route and then glance in,” Coach called out.

Christ, he was going to make Brody run. He sprinted thirty-five yards before breaking to the inside in front of the goalpost. Coach threw it a little high, but Brody extended his hands and caught the pa.s.s as if it were thrown perfectly. The thrill of catching a ball on the run still gave him a quick high. He trotted back over to the coach.

”Nice catch.” Coach flipped another ball between his hands. ”Too bad you couldn't manage to do that when it was third and long yesterday.”