Out Of Bounds: Risky Game Part 3

Five.

Man, she was a p.r.i.c.kly one. Most women liked when a guy paid for everything, but Shannon-Brody wasn't sure he was elevated to friend status and could call her Shay-wouldn't have anything to do with him buying her groceries. Instead, she insisted on tallying up the cost of the items in the basket that were hers-two bananas, three containers of yogurt, and a carton of soy milk-and digging deep into her purse to count out the exact change. The eggs and the brownie mix were apparently on his dime.

Dusk was falling as they left the store. An engine revved in the parking lot and Brody caught sight of the three guys who'd been pestering Shannon earlier. They were sitting in a souped-up Camry two rows away from the entrance, Eminem blaring from the stereo.

"Where's your car?" Brody asked.

Shannon hesitated at the curb, her eyes drifting to a dilapidated bicycle chained to a pole. Despite the fact he already knew what was coming, Brody swore under his breath in annoyance. If there was one thing he should have learned from all those dopey Disney princess movies his sisters made him watch when he was a kid, rescuing the damsel in distress usually took longer than a five-minute commitment.

"I rode my bike."

She bent over to unchain the bike, giving him a perfect view of what his hands had been fondling ten minutes ago. Brody stifled a groan. He wouldn't mind the disruption of his evening if she was as into him as he was to her. But she wasn't. She'd made that abundantly clear.

"You're not riding a bike in the dark." Brody wasn't sure why he cared anymore, but he did. Somehow she'd become his responsibility and he wasn't driving away until she was home safely. Even if he did sound like his father right now.

Pulling out a reflective vest from her purse, she turned toward Brody, her eyes and her stance mulish. "You're not the boss of me."

In his entire life, Brody had never met a woman who wasn't susceptible to his charm; one who wouldn't immediately acquiesce to his wishes. Over the years, he'd watched, amused, as his friends and teammates went "caveman" with their girlfriends and wives in order to get their way, never imagining he'd need to do the same to get a woman to do his bidding. Until right now.

Grabbing the plastic bag containing their groceries in one hand, he stalked over to where Shannon held her bike, scooped it up by the crossbar, and carried it over to his Range Rover. With a push of a b.u.t.ton on his key fob, the liftgate opened. Brody tossed the bike and the groceries into the back. If the eggs ended up cracked, tough. He was done being nice to this woman.

Apparently, Little Miss Texas wasn't used to being told what to do, because she was protesting loudly, her once-s.e.xy drawl now an annoying tw.a.n.g.

"How dare you! I'm perfectly capable of getting home without being run over. It's only a five-minute ride."

"Good," he said closing the liftgate. "Then it'll only be two minutes by car."

Brody turned to find her standing inches from him, those whiskey eyes still mulish. d.a.m.n. He needed to leave her here. To go home, change clothes, and hit some bar where the women would be a lot more accommodating.

"Give me my bike back."

He actually considered it. It would be so easy. This whole rescuing thing was starting to feel too much like work. But the Camry's engine revved a second time and those caveman instincts he never knew he had took over once again.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." He stepped closer, bringing them nearly nose-to-nose. "Easy way, you get in the car and we're home in two minutes. Hard way, we have a little instant replay from inside so those three jerks get the h.e.l.l out of here. What's it gonna be?"

Surprisingly, he found himself pulling for her to choose the hard way. Despite her lack of response to their earlier kiss, he'd enjoyed it, and he wouldn't mind a second attempt at coaxing a reaction out of her. Her eyes darted over her shoulder at the frat boys in the Camry. He watched her slowly swallow as she seemed to consider her options. The moment stretched on and Brody's body began to tense up as the muscles in her graceful neck worked. Just when he thought he'd kiss her anyway, she shook her head and headed toward the pa.s.senger side of the Range Rover. He wasn't sure, but he thought she'd mumbled something sounding like "h.e.l.l's bells" as she slid into the front seat. The Camry squealed out of the parking lot just as Brody climbed in on his side.

As he predicted, the apartment complex she directed him to was barely three minutes' drive from Santoni's. Shannon didn't want him to see where she lived, that much was obvious by the terse directions she gave and the rigid way she held her body. Brody thought her reaction had to do with her desire to get some distance from him, but when he caught a glimpse of the former motel that was supposed to pa.s.s for an apartment complex, he realized the stiffness in her chin might be brought on by something more: shame, most likely. He was a little ashamed himself for letting things get this far, but he couldn't have left her alone in the parking lot. He'd been raised better than that.

The place was neat and clean, but it lacked any of the amenities a woman in her twenties would want. Like security, for starters. He pulled his SUV into one of the parking s.p.a.ces and killed the engine. "If you're a graduate student, why don't you live in the dorm?" Brody realized the question was equal parts absurd and insensitive as soon as the words left his mouth.

Shannon released a little huff as she let herself out of the car. "Dorms cost money."

Brody was getting a little sick and tired of her maligning him. "Really? And here I thought they were free," he quipped as he met her at the rear of the Range Rover and opened the liftgate.

"They're free to athletes and the beautiful people," she said as she pulled out the bag of groceries, taking a moment to inspect the eggs for damage. "The rest of us poor slobs have to pay. And this place costs less than half of what the university would charge me."

As he lifted her bike out of the cargo area, Brody contemplated her situation. He'd gone to Notre Dame for free, courtesy of a football scholars.h.i.+p. But there had never been any doubt he wouldn't go to a top-notch school because his parents could afford to send him. A college education-and all that went with it-was a.s.sumed in the Janik household. He knew other students didn't have it so easy, but Shannon had gotten as far as graduate school, so she'd obviously worked it out. Work being the operative word since she had three jobs.

"I've got it," she said, reaching for her bike.

"For Pete's sake, Shannon! Let me carry this bike to your apartment. When we get there, you can slam the door in my face, as long as you're safely on the other side of it. Can you just do that for me, huh?"

She stood there in the parking lot, gingerly cradling the bag of eggs and other groceries, studying him quietly. "Okay," she said finally, with the same breathless voice she'd used to tell him her name.

Brody felt it all the way to his groin.

Turning on her heel, Shannon made her way up the concrete steps to the second floor. As they rounded the corner, a burly man with an unkempt mullet stepped in their path.

"Shay," the man said. "My mail key's gone missing again. I need a replacement."

"I can take care of that, but it'll be thirty-five dollars to replace, Mr. Metz."

"Thirty-five bucks!" the guy bellowed.

"It's the third time I've had to ask the landlord to replace it for you. They're specialty keys and he has to send out for them. He likes to get paid up front to ensure he gets the money."

Mr. Metz growled something unintelligible, but Shannon held her ground. Brody suspected she'd stand firm against the man who outweighed her by at least a hundred and fifty pounds even if she didn't have a professional athlete at her back. The guy slunk back into his apartment, slamming the door.

Shannon walked to the end of the balcony, stopping at a locked box mounted to the wall. She jiggled the lock to check if it was secure before pulling out her own key and unlocking her door.

"You've gotta be kidding. Don't tell me you're the super here, too?"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Fine. I won't tell you."

Carrying the bike into her apartment, he shook his head in exasperation. Clearly, this woman worked harder than anyone he'd ever met. He glanced around her home. The small living area was furnished with a hodgepodge of secondhand furniture, but somehow she'd made shabby chic work with an eclectic mix of bright pillows and funky accessories. It looked like a room where Brody would love to kick back and relax with friends. Or a sa.s.sy Texan.

Emerging from the small kitchenette, Shannon handed him the bag with his sandwich, the brownie mix, and the eggs.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He stood gazing into her eyes like a dumba.s.s, unsure whether to make his escape or beg her to let him stay, those whiskey eyes casting a spell on him yet again.

"Keep the eggs and the brownie mix." He tried to hand the bag back to her. "You can make yourself some brownies for later."

She put up her hands to say no, but they were both startled by a small voice coming from a door behind Brody.

"You gonna make brownies, Shay?"

A young, caramel-skinned boy dressed in Redskins pajamas stood in the doorway, his big, puddle-brown eyes wide with excitement. They narrowed quickly when they landed on Brody.

"Hey! We got rules about bringing strange men home, Shay. Remember?"

Brody looked between the boy and Shannon, a twinge of jealousy flas.h.i.+ng through his gut as he envisioned her bringing other men home to her kitschy apartment. The jealously was quickly replaced by bewilderment as he wondered what the h.e.l.l she was doing with a little boy.

"Maddox, you should be in bed. It's a school night." Shay tried to maneuver Brody toward the door, but he stood firmly transfixed, his large body seeming to take up all the air in her tiny apartment. Or maybe it was her nerves sucking the breath out of her. Not two feet from where he stood, the card table that doubled as a dining area and desk was littered with articles on hypoglycemia. She needed to get Sir Galahad out of there before he spied them scattered among her textbooks.

"It's only seven-forty. I still got twenty more minutes." At seven years old, Maddox had not only mastered telling time, but the argumentative skills of a top litigator. "Hey, you're Brody Janik."

Oh snap. Shay had hoped to get Brody out of there before anyone recognized him.

Brody gave Maddox a smile; not one of the bone-melting ones he used on women, but his patronizing "aw shucks, I'm a celebrity" grin she'd seen him use on fans.

"That's me. And you are?"

"I'm Maddox." The boy tilted his head, studying Brody. "You look a lot tougher on Madden."

"You're wearing Redskins pajamas and you're talking smack?"

Shay pulled Maddox against her body, throwing Brody a warning look over the boy's head. Brody shrugged his shoulders as if to say, He started it.

"Is your sister asleep?" she asked.

Maddox nodded, never taking his eyes off Brody. "Mrs. Elder fell asleep watching Wheel again, so I gave Anya her bottle."

"Good boy." Shay gently rubbed his back. "Now why don't you go brush your teeth?"

Without another word, Maddox slipped through the adjoining door to the apartment he shared with his mother and baby sister.

"So, do we add nanny to the list?"

Shay rolled her eyes. "Just neighbors helping neighbors."

"Does his mother often leave him alone to take care of his baby sister like that? Because I'm pretty sure that's against the law."

Shay took exception to Brody's tone. "You know, not everyone lives in the bubble of affluence like you do, Brody. Some of us have to do whatever we can to survive. Jackie is a labor and delivery nurse. It's part of her job to work nights. Her husband is in Afghanistan and childcare is expensive. We-Mrs. Elder and I-pull together to help out."

In her exasperation, she'd unwittingly come to stand inches from him again. She could feel the censure and tension radiating off his body. Bafflement shone in his blue eyes, too. And something else. Something she couldn't quite define.

"You are a conundrum, Shannon Everett." He spoke softly, but his tone sent s.h.i.+vers through her body. "And I'm fascinated by conundrums."

Shay sank her teeth into her bottom lip, and Brody's nostrils flared. Her breath caught as she realized he might kiss her again. Only this time, she wasn't sure she could keep her own response in check. He leaned toward her, but the slap of Maddox's bare feet against the parquet floor roused Shay out of her trance and she stepped back.

"I got a Baltimore Blaze poster, Mr. Janik. Will you sign it?" Maddox burst back into her apartment, the poster dragging on the floor behind him.

Obviously the moment hadn't affected Brody as much as it had her because he had no trouble slipping back into celebrity mode.

"That depends. Are you gonna keep wearing those Redskins PJs?" A teasing glint shone in Brody's eyes.

"My daddy grew up in Anacostia. That's in DC," Maddox said, puffing out his chest with belligerent pride. "We're Redskins fans first and Blaze fans second."

Brody rubbed the top of the boy's head. "Atta boy. Show your pride for your home team. Don't be that kid who says what he thinks people want to hear." They both crouched down on the floor, spreading the poster out before them. Brody signed his name and then poised the marker over Shane Devlin's face. "Should we put some devil horns on him?"

Maddox giggled and Shay found herself smiling with them both. Brody's effortless boyish charm always had that effect on her. She ached to live the life of carefree exuberance that he did. He lifted his gaze to her, his lazy smile causing her knees to nearly buckle.

"Shay, can I have one of those brownies in my lunchbox tomorrow?" Maddox asked. He looked at Brody, his face earnest. "Shay makes the best brownies."

Brody rose from his haunches, rolling up the poster, his grin a bit more predatory now. "Does she now?"

The skin on her cheeks burned. "Not tonight, Maddox. I have to finish up an outline for my thesis counselor. But maybe when I get back from campus tomorrow. You can help me after school." She needed to get Brody out of her place. Not only was he taking up all the air, but he was sucking up her composure, too. "Why don't you go pick out a book and we can read it together before you go to bed."

Maddox hesitated, but his good manners finally won out. "Thanks for signing my poster, Mr. Janik."

"Sure thing." Brody gave the boy's head another rub before Maddox slowly shuffled off to his bedroom.

"So what does a guy have to do to get one of those brownies?" Brody asked as he ambled toward her. Everything about his demeanor said he wanted more than just dessert. Shay wasn't accustomed to men looking at her the way Brody was right now. The desire in his eyes was doing strange things to her brain.

Like cutting off all rational thought.

"You can't have brownies, Brody. It'll mess up your blood sugar." The words were out of her mouth before she could think. It was the story of Shay's life.

The desire faded from his eyes, replaced by astonishment-and a trace of fear before he quickly reined that in. His carefree smile disappeared, leaving behind a tight grimace. He closed the distance between them as Shay pressed her back up against the wall.

"What did you say?" His words were like a whip cracking through the air.

Shay stared at him, wide-eyed, her normally fast-acting brain unable to come up with a response.

Brody grabbed her upper arms, pulling her to within inches of his face. "Who told you?" he demanded, giving her a little shake.

"No one," she answered, the words barely a whisper. Her body should have been gripped in fear, but instinct told her Brody wouldn't physically harm her. The shame consuming her was another matter, though. "I . . . I, um . . . I overheard you talking with your trainer about it."

She watched Brody's face as his mind worked through the logic of her answer.

"The only place you could have overheard us was in the locker room." His eyes went wide as he realized the implication. "You're the snitch! The one who told that d.a.m.n blogger about DeShawn. You know, he's losing his endors.e.m.e.nt money because of you!" He gave her another shake.

"No," she cried. "I didn't tell the blogger anything. I couldn't go through with it!"

Brody released his grip, pus.h.i.+ng her away in disgust. "Oh yeah? I'm supposed to believe a woman who'll do anything for a buck?" He went over to the table and picked up one of the articles she had sitting out. "Reading up on the condition before you try to blackmail me?" he accused, waving the paper in her face.

"No! I'm studying nutrition. Working for the team is my interns.h.i.+p this fall. I was looking for ways to help you." Her excuse sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

"Give me a break, Texas. I might not be a PhD candidate, but I did graduate from college. You're nothing but a gold digger like the rest of them. But you're not going to be able to use your hairnet to get any more information on my teammates. Not when I'm through with you." Tossing the paper to the floor, he headed for the door.

Panic seized in Shay's chest. "What are you going to do?"

"Rat you out to management, for starters."

"You can't." Once again, Shay's mouth was operating faster than her brain could keep pace. "If you get me fired, I'll tell them about you. About your blood sugar." Shay felt nauseous as she made the threat. It wasn't in her nature to bully other people, not after she'd spent her own life being bullied. But she needed the credits the interns.h.i.+p provided. Time was running out. She only had this semester to finish her work. Her mama was counting on her.

Brody paused with one hand on the doork.n.o.b; his normally carefree posture rigid with fury. Obviously, he hadn't considered the consequences of his plan. He turned slowly and leaned his back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he tucked his hands beneath his armpits. She felt the heat of his anger radiating clear across the room.