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“Are you calling my dad an asshole?”
“No! I was just going to say it’s hard.”
Cornell’s father was misguided but kind and caring, and it made Ali incredibly happy that he and Cornell were working to rebuild their relationship.
“Look,” Ali began. “It’s obvious he’s not going to be walking away from this place with lifelong friends or any friends at all. I think he’s lonely.”
“I’ve got a bunch of other players who probably deserve my attention more than he does,” Cornell said. “What is it with you and this kid?”
Ali stepped over to the closet, pulling out a pair of heels. “I don’t like seeing anyone struggle. Not on my watch.” It was the truth. “I’m just asking for a small favor. Talk with him every now and then. It probably would be in your and the team’s best interest if he had a little more pep in his step.”
It crossed Ali’s mind that perhaps Graham just needed a healthy male role model in his life. Someone who offered guidance instead of orders, who had a solid understanding of right from wrong, a soft heart and a firm voice.
Someone exactly like Cornell, who suddenly was flush behind her, running a calloused finger from her neck down her back where the dress dipped.
“Are you asking me this favor as my colleague or as my girlfriend?”
Ali shivered. “A little bit of both.”
“Well, as your colleague, I’m telling you that it’s after business hours on a Friday.” Ali jumped when she felt his lips in the crook of her neck. “My beautiful, smart girlfriend and I have plans, and she happens to be wearing a very sexy dress, so you’ll have to wait until Monday for my response.” Cornell smirked against her skin before he spun her around, his hands holding her hips, guiding her backward onto the bed.
“We’re going to be late.” She dug her heel into the mattress when Cornell began to kiss up her bare leg. “Late,” Ali repeated, trying to stifle her moan by biting the inside of her cheek when warm, full lips made it to her thigh. “Cornell—”
“I’m busy,” he said, his breath hot against the sensitive skin as he moved higher.
“Cornell—”
“Leave a message after the beep,” he said, nipping at Ali’s inner thigh and drawing a yelp before whispering flush against her underwear, “Beep.”
Ali pressed her lips together. “What about Graham?”
Lifting his head from beneath the bunched fabric, Cornell looked at her, irritated. “As your boyfriend, I’m telling you yes, as long as you promise to never mention his name in our bedroom again.”
“Promise,” Ali said, breathing deeply.
“Good.” He pulled Ali’s dress back over his head. “Now, let me give us a good enough excuse for being late.”
* * *
“How did I not see that before?” Tara squealed, turning Ali away from the sink so quickly it made her head spin. Cornell would have to be the designated driver that night because she was two and a half margaritas in and an entrée behind. Tara lifted Ali’s necklace. “Is that gold? What does it say? Something—”
“Forever.” Ali hiccupped.
Tara tilted her head. “It’s pretty. But I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to,” Ali said with a smirk before sighing. “I think we’re going to get married.”
“You and me?”
Ali rolled her eyes.
“Wait,” Tara began. “Cornell didn’t propose with that, did he?”
“No,” Ali told her. She rolled the delicate chain between her fingers. But if he did, I wouldn’t have minded. She smiled at Tara in the mirror, suddenly hit with a twang of school-girl giddiness. “We’d have really cute kids, right? Did I ever tell you how adorable Cornell was when he was little? I mean, he looked exactly like he does—”
“Okay, Tequila Ali, slow your roll. Ring first,” Tara reminded her. “Don’t give him the cow free when he should be buying it.”
Ali tilted her head. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
