Page 112 of Just for the Cameras
“Who is Hutton?”
“Hutton Marshall. Wide receiver for the Foghorns. He and his wife dragged me out one night and brought me here.”
“Dragged you out? I would have loved to see that.” She bumps her shoulder with mine. “Were you kicking and screaming?”
“Practically,” I answer, then take another bite of my taco.
“I’m guessing that you don’t get out much.”
“Not so much.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin.
“So how do you meet people?”
“I don’t need to meet people.”
“I mean…ladies.”
I cock a brow as I turn toward her. “I have a girl. Don’t need to look for another one.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, I’m being serious. You have to have the ladies hanging all over you.”
“Never put myself in a position where I would have them hanging all over me.”
She pauses, and then asks, “Really? Like no bars or clubs or online dating?”
“No.”
“So, what, you’re just…celibate?”
“Don’t you think this is a little personal?” I ask as she finishes the bite she just took.
“Probably,” she says with a shrug. “Just curious. I’ve been celibate for quite some time now, but that’s because I was in Peru. I’m just surprised if that’s the case for you. Or if it’s something that I have to work around, you know. Just trying to see if there is anything I have to deal with on my end if you have…ladies you call upon.”
That gathers my attention as I wipe my mouth again. “You don’t have to worry about that when we’re together. I made a commitment to you, and I wouldn’t do something like that to embarrass you or jeopardize our setup.”
“Okay, I mean, if you need to, that’s fine—”
“I won’t,” I say, my voice firm.
“Are you sure?” She looks so uncertain.
“You have my word.”
“And I appreciate that, but don’t you have needs? Especially after games?”
I think about the four numbers I have in my phone that I keep in reserve if I do ever have to get rid of excess energy. Four women whohave all signed NDAs, four women that I really don’t know much about other than they fulfill a need when I have one because I haven’t had time to date…or even the urge to. I don’t have a life that I really want to share with anyone. I have baggage I don’t want people seeing or carrying. I’m busy most of the time, and I’m set on autopilot so that I don’t ever have to think of anything outside my day-to-day life. Hence why this whole “save the team” PR stunt has been way out of my comfort zone.
“My needs are nothing you have to worry about.”
She takes a bite of her taco, silent for a moment. Does she have…needs? Is that what her questioning is about? She said she’s been celibate since Peru, but does that mean…does that mean she could fulfill her “needs” with Slutty Little Glasses? There is no fucking way I’m asking her that, even though that idea will now eat me alive inside.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket before setting her taco down on the paper and pulling up the camera.
“Take a picture with me and our tacos?” She hands me her phone and smiles back at me, a pleading look in her eyes. But that smile, Jesus, it has so much power, the kind of power I’ve never experienced before. Because it has a hold on me.
The kind of hold that packs a powerful punch, like she could ask me anything with that smile attached, and I’d say yes.
To anything.
