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"Speak for yourself," Cole interjects. He leans over toward me a boyish smirk. It makes him look like he's planning something mischievous. "I brought the good stuff. A bottle of red that's older than you."
"Ha! As if anything could be older than me," I quip back, playfulness lacing my voice. “Haven’t you heard? I’m twenty-six and I’ve got a kid. I’m in bed at nine p.m.”
Sav shakes her head. “Don’t let him lie to you. We go to bed when the sun goes down. Charlie would rather die than let us sleep in.”
Charlie is Cole’s son. I thought that my son Dex was his Aunt Savannah’s number one love. But her priorities have shifted since she met Cole.
Now, I’m pretty sure Charlie is her favorite human being alive. Followed by Cole, her unborn baby, and then Dex is somewhere after that. It’s been a harder transition for me to accept than Dex because he loves having a kid his age in the family.
Chuckling, I accept that I just have to deflate my ego a little.
I'm mid-laugh when the atmosphere shifts. The room's energy tilts on its axis, as if realigning to a new north star.
My mouth goes dry.
He sucks all the attention from everyone. He is why the young women are all dolled up.
He’s why I’m here, too. I don't even have to turn to know he's arrived.
Rex Bennett, the enigmatic and charismatic pro baseball player for the Atlanta Kings. He’s built like an oak tree, tall and thick, with too long dark hair that flops into his eyes and has to be pushed back regularly. He’s ridiculously, unspeakably handsome. He’s been famous forever and is considered something of a hometown hero.
As for the women… He is notorious for being a huge player. Somehow, none of his conquests seem to mind that he flits from girl to girl, never settling.
And did I mention that he’s Cole's big brother?
My pulse picks up a staccato rhythm that I can’t quite keep in check. I’m just excited about the possibility of getting closer to my… uh… story. Yep, that’s it.
"Speak of the devil..." Savannah murmurs, her gaze slicing through the sea of bodies to where Rex holds court at the entrance. He is every inch the athlete; broad shoulders set in an effortless stance, his smile easy but with a hint of arrogance that comes from being chased by both fame and fans. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, scan the room until they find us.
God, is he looking at me? I’m older than the other girls at the table. I’m wearing a simple green dress with a Peter Pan collar instead of a barely there gold tube dress. And I have a frigging kid.
Actually, that probably makes me the perfect target for a player like Rex. Wine me, dine me, never call me again. I would say I get it…
If I weren’t a naturally curvy girl. I’m more of Penelope Featherington from Bridgerton and less of a skinny Minnie. I’m not sure where that puts me as far Rex is concerned.
Not that I really need to worry about that. Rex is my ticket to getting a promotion. If I sleep with him and someone finds out, my objectivity in reporting on him could be called into question.
Which is fine. Rex may be pretty to look at, and a good athlete, but that’s as far as it goes. I’m not interested in him.
Actually, I’m not interested in anyone until my six-year-old is out of the house.
"Time to charm the snake out of his den," I whisper to myself. I smooth down my dress. I've got a story to chase. While Rex might be notorious for playing the field, I'm about to show him I'm not one to be outmatched.
I wait while Rex works his way around the table. He spends a few minutes talking to the women, who are here for him. Their flirtations are so obvious that it’s actually pretty hard to watch.
Just when I think Rex is free, another random girl comes up to him from the restaurant and starts talking to him.
Ugh. Will I be forced to endure watch fans heap their adoring attentions on Rex’s head? But then he breaks away from the strange woman and comes closer.
“Cole,” he says. His tone turns flirty. “And Savannah. How are you feeling, sugar?”
My sister smiles, but doesn’t engage with him head-on. “I’m feeling well, thanks for asking.”
Cole glares at his brother. “Watch your tone.”
Rex rolls his eyes. The threat rolls right off his back, like a duck shedding water. He turns to me. “Hey. How’s it going, Birdie?”
I blush and smile. Rex Bennet knows my fucking name.
