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Yes, I flirted with Davey and came on to Davey and would have absolutely fooled around with Davey had he been available and willing. But TJ. TJ is the one who really drew me to that room. TJ is the reason I walked in there. I wanted another glimpse of him. Wanted to torment myself, I guess. Being wanted is nice. I never expected him to show up in person. I wish I could say I’m pissed off about it. I’m not. I’m a sucker for a grand gesture.
“Hi TJ.”
Chapter seven
He just smiles.
I hear a collective moan coming from the crowd. The concert will have a shortened second set and no encore.
The flurry of activity to get security in place to deal with a crowd that will not want to leave in just thirty minutes prevents any time with TJ.
The lights flicker, go out, return. We all freeze, waiting for more.
I hear the crowd roaring, expecting more…with the storm…security is signaling the concert is over and prepares to usher them out. I feel a tug on my arm. So wrapped up in TJ’s eyes, the movement captures TJ’s attention before my own. I bend down to hear what my manager is saying.
I nod and glance at TJ.
“The car will be waiting, one song,” Randall urges. “It’s getting bad out there.”
As if on cue, there is another flicker to the lights. They are much slower to return this time. The crowd reacts with a collective “Ooooh.” Then the boisterous demand for more begins again…I dash back onto the stage…grab the mic and thank everyone. I play one more song and then urge them to get home or back to wherever they are going safely. The lights flicker again. I’m not sure now if this is the storm or a ploy by the arena to get everyone to leave.
When I exit the stage, they cut those lights completely. No floor lights, no warm glow from behind the curtains. Total darkness. The get-out-he’s-not-coming-back sign.
Randall leads the way. TJ and I have a very attractive, very tall black woman with thin dreads framing her face, escorting us. She cups a hand over her ear and then responds to whatever was said into her earpiece, speaking into the tiny mic clipped to the lapel of her jacket.
She glances at TJ and me to make sure we are keeping up with her swift strides. As we practically run through the corridor, I catch a couple of glimpses of photos of athletes and logos painted on the walls and see a sign for Visitor Locker Room and I realize TJ has probably strolled through these very halls before. Numerous times. This all seems excessively rushed and has a secret service doomsday feel to it. Which seems very odd to me until the air hits us when they open the doors and escort us outside.
Furiously whipping wind slaps my face and tiny ice pellets sting my cheeks. My lungs sting too with the inhale of the frigid air, and I catch my breath. Fuck, this is bad.
I slide into the seat and TJ follows. I don’t even get the chance to thank the woman for the escort before she disappears. Randall looks in the car door and scowls before retreating and slamming the door and tapping on the roof.
When the car pulls out from under the awning, the ice pellets relentlessly pound at the metal, desperate to get in. The lights of the city have a strange glow. It seems some of them are out.
My apartment is close to the arena. It can be a very pleasant walk when people don’t recognize me, which isn’t very often these days. I can occasionally walk along the lake in jeans and hoodie, without makeup and all the flash and fanfare I’ve come to be known for.
TJ and I watch the weather from the warmth of the Town Car. Not speaking…. just trying to come down from that frantic flurry to get us out of the building. The closer we get to my building, the more I wonder what the hell happens next. TJ came here for one reason. I’m going to disappoint him in that regard. I will not give in to his advances. No matter how good he looks. No matter how much my stomach flips when he looks at me. No matter how much fun I know it would be to toy with all those muscles.
I can’t go down this road again. I remind myself of the all the fights I saw him get into on the ice. The fury in his eyes the first time I saw him. Despite the pleasant, sexy man sitting next to me. There is a lot of anger flowing through those veins. And I can’t be any part of that either.
“Why are you here?”
“I thought maybe you’d want to play the National Anthem at one of our games.”
“And it’s your job to schedule such things?” I mock him.
He shrugs.
“I wanted to hear you play again, in person…” TJ pauses. “And I want to play with you.”
Wow. “Subtle.” But it shoots straight to my groin.
“I thought you might be a man who appreciates brutal honesty.”
“I am,” I say and look directly into those hazel eyes of his. “But that isn’t going to change the fact that…what you want to happen tonight isn’t going to happen.”
“Because I’m straight?”
I nod. “I appreciate you want to play. Try something new. And I’m flattered…but the answer is still no. I’m not a toy TJ.”
