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“You want to ask me about the size of my dick and write about it?”
“You sure are full of yourself. For the record, I take my job seriously. So, unless you want to sit down and let me interview you for real, this conversation is over.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time. See you around, sweetheart.”
“Bite me, jackass.” She whipped around and marched toward her house, and I wanted to walk away. Told myself to move. But my eyes were glued to her perfect ass.
When she got to her front door and opened it, she turned around. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
And then she slammed the door hard.
I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.
She was the most aggravating woman I’d ever met, yet I enjoyed bickering with her more than I enjoyed talking to anyone else.
And I couldn’t wait to do it again.
five
Brinkley
Hawk had setme up to meet with Breen Lockhart, a player who’d been traded to the San Francisco Lions this season. He’d been setting all sorts of league records, including most goals scored in a single season. Hawk had continued to tell me to be cautious, and Everly had gotten on the phone and repeatedly told me to watch my back with him. I didn’t need a warning in that department. I was always cautious when it came to men, especially professional athletes.
I had a rule:All professional athletes were off-limits.
Mixing work and pleasure was a bad idea. I was already fighting to make a name for myself in a male-dominated field. The last thing I needed was to be accused of sleeping my way to the top.
Breen and I had been on this Zoom call for half an hour, and he’d refused to answer any questions. The man was determined to meet in person.
“Sorry, I prefer face-to-face interviews, especially if you’re going to write a big story about me. So we should spend some time together.”
“A Zoom call is face-to-face. I told you that I don’t live in the city anymore, and when we set up this meeting, you didn’t have a problem doing it over Zoom,” I reminded him because, so far, this had been a total dead end.
“Well, I don’t have a game next weekend, and I’ve been meaning to get out of town. I think a trip to Cottonwood Cove sounds like a great idea.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You’re coming here for me to interview you?”
“Yes. You can show me around town, we can get to know one another, and you can ask as many questions as you want. I’m an open book.”
“If we meet in person, then you’ll be an open book? Because you appear to be a closed book so far, as you haven’t answered one question yet.”
“All in good time, Brinkley Reynolds.” He smiled, and I was fairly certain his charm worked on most women.
Personally, I didn’t like it. It was a bit cheesy. He’d spent the entire time circling around my questions. Hell, I’d take that bastard Lincoln Hendrix’s closed-off personality over this guy. Because at least with Lincoln, you knew where you stood.
Mind you, he was a complete jackass, but at least he was a straight shooter.
I could work with that.
“Fine. Send me the dates, and I’ll reserve the time to meet with you.”
“Are you single?” he asked, which was not only completely unprofessional but nervy. He hadn’t answered one of my questions, now he thought he was asking the questions?
“I don’t date athletes.” Even though I was annoyed that he’d asked, I’d prepared for this after what Hawk and Everly had told me. I’d have nothing more than friendship to offer this guy. But building relationships with the people I interviewed was also important in my industry.
“And why is that?” he teased. He was used to getting his way.
“I find that most professional athletes are pretty full of themselves. You travel often and could easily stray, and you, Breen Lockhart, have a reputation for breaking hearts.”
