Page 9 of Body Heat
“Pardon?” I asked.
“I heard hell had frozen over, and you brought a girl to the stadium.” He eyed Sera up and down, and I barely stopped myself from punching him in the face. She was pretending to be my girlfriend in order to keep me safe from my stalker, but the instinct to protect her was still there. Or maybe it was because I didn’t want another guy looking at her at all. Jealousy was a new emotion for me, but I was man enough to admit that it was at least some of what I was feeling.
“Not a girl. A woman,” Sera corrected.
“That you are.” The guard pulled a visitor’s badge out of his pocket and went to hang it around Sera’s neck.
He didn’t get far before I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “Thanks, but I’ve got it from here.”
“I’m sure you do.” He leered at Sera’s tits before turning and walking away.
I waited until he was out of our line of sight before growling, “What a little shit.”
“You can say that again,” Sera agreed.
I jiggled the badge, and she let me lift her hair up to drop the lanyard around her neck. After it was in place, she tilted her head back and asked, “You know I could’ve handled him on my own, right?”
“No shit. I saw the way you sparred with Whit. I think you could take anyone in this building in a fight, and that includes our starting left tackle who is six foot eight and three hundred and fifty pounds. I’m not sure why I stepped in”—I was such a fucking liar, but it’s not like I could admit to being jealous—“and I hope I didn’t overstep.”
“You’re fine.” She waved off my concern. “You warning him off me will probably even help with my cover story because I’m sure that little punk isn’t the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut.”
“I don’t know him that well, but from what I’ve heard, you’re probably right.”
“Remind me to put his name at the top of the list of suspects,” Sera muttered. “Even if he’s too stupid to find his way out of a paper bag, thinking it’s wise to make a lame attempt at hitting on a pro football player’s girlfriend while he’s standing right there.”
I hoped he was smarter than he seemed because then I’d have good reason to kick the little douchebag’s ass.
Chapter 7
Sera
Rowan and I had quickly fallen into a routine over the past week. With him at the stadium for ten to twelve hours a day, handling close protection detail for him felt more like a vacation than work. His mom seemed to be on a mission to fatten me up because she’d started cooking dinner for us, too. Sleeping with him each night wasn’t a hardship, either.
Attending his game on Sunday was a whole different story, though. I wasn't into football that much. Usually when I watched a game, it was because one of the guys had it on. The downside to most of my friends being male was an overabundance of testosterone and nonstop sports on the television.
Watching Rowan play was different. As corny as it sounded, he truly was poetry in motion on the field. I finally understood why Whit insisted he was the best quarterback in the history of the game. Five minutes into the first quarter, I was already starting to have a new appreciation for football.
“Who are you here for?” I looked over my shoulder and spotted the woman who’d asked the question. She was seated in the row behind me, two seats to my left. I clocked how insincere her smile was in less than a second.
Having run the gamut of judgment when I was stuck on close protection for that asshole baseball player, I knew what came next. The wives and girlfriends club for professional sports players reminded me of high school. Some of the women were truly interested in helping the newest addition fit in, but many of them felt threatened and acted accordingly. This one was definitely part of the latter.
Dealing with women like her was a hell of a lot easier for me now than it had been back when I was a teenager. Being supremely confident in my ability to kick her ass with both hands tied behind my back helped. Not that I would actually get physical with her, but just knowing what I could do took the power out of her hands.
“I'm with Rowan,” I answered.
“Rowan Charles, our quarterback?” she echoed in shock.
I hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention to myself, so my answer had been softly spoken. Apparently, she didn’t have had the same concern because she screeched her response. It wasn’t much of a surprise when the head of every person sitting near us turned our way.
“But he never brings anyone other than his mom to the games,” she stuttered.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. She couldn’t make it today, so Rowan gave me her ticket.”
The girl sitting on the other side of her, who looked like she was barely out of high school and was dressed more for the night club than a football game, added, “My best friend couldn't even get him to buy her a drink when he was out with the guys a few weeks ago, let alone ask her on a date or to a game.”
The woman sitting next two seats down from me, who was dressed in an oversized jersey and a pair of skinny jeans with kick ass heels, muttered, “Probably because he's interested in a woman who can hold her own with him. Not a girl who would drop to her knees in the middle of the club for any of the guys if they pointed down at their dicks.”
I made a mental note to have one of the guys look into her best friend. It was doubtful that she was the one sending the notes to Rowan because she didn't fit the profile, but I would not rule anyone out without digging into them. If she was pissed enough over his rejection, it was possible she would’ve done something about it.
