IT WAS ALWAYS YOU Page 8

  “Okay, let me put it this way. That nurse was super excited to meet Cassian Ellis, a Mavericks football player, but you turned it into the possibility of hooking up with Cassian, the Bad Boy Quarterback. Do you see what I’m saying?”

  He wanted to argue with her, but he couldn’t. That’s exactly what had happened. In fact, he’d seen it. Like flipping a switch, she’d gone from fan to seducer.

  This is what Coach is talking about. On this tour, Cassian was a representative of the team. Instead, he’d come off like a friend. Someone to grab a beer with. Or a potential hookup.

  “So, okay, I just wanted to put it out there. I think it’ll help keep you out of trouble.”

  “I hear what you’re saying. Now, go on to Calamity and make this the best damn summer these kids have ever had. I’ll see you soon.”

  * * *

  After the group dinner, where Gigi completely ignored him by sitting at the opposite end of a long table, Cassian went to his room to make some calls. He checked in with the team’s publicist to see what they were doing about the leaked photograph and with his manager to find out if he’d heard anything about being traded.

  His manager was pretty sure they’d never trade their franchise quarterback, that it had just been a ploy to get Cassian to behave, but Cassian didn’t believe it. Coach never said anything he didn’t mean. Besides, the threat had come from the team’s owner. And all Chuck Caswell cared about was football…and winning.

  Which meant it was a very real possibility that Cassian would have to start all over again. The idea was…depressing. It took a lot of work to win people over.

  There’s nothing I can do about it now.

  Tonight, though, there was something he could do. Apologize to Gigi. First, he needed to find her. Grabbing his keycard, he stuffed it in his back pocket and started for the door. His phone vibrated. Dean.

  He wanted to ignore it, get to Gigi, but Dean was a man of few words. If he was calling, it mattered. “Yeah?”

  “Turn on SportsNews.”

  Dammit. “What now?” He snatched the remote off the TV and turned it on. It took him a minute to find the station, but when he did, he found the sportscasters talking about a press conference. “What’s this got to do with me?” Oh, hang on. In a smaller box, he recognized Zach Dimitri, his back-up quarterback sitting behind a microphone. “Is he making an announcement? Did he get traded?”

  “Give it a second. They keep repeating the interview. Analyzing what he said.”

  Dean was right. A moment later the box widened to fill the screen.

  “You excited to head to training camp in a few weeks, Zach?” someone asked.

  “You bet.” Zach sat at a long, rectangular table, alongside other players, facing a roomful of reporters. “We’re all excited to get back on the field and win another championship.” He motioned to someone else in the audience.

  “Think you’ll get some play time this season?” a reporter asked.

  “You’ll have to talk to Coach about that.” He pointed at someone else.

  The next guy asked, “What about Cassian?”

  “What about him?” Zach looked almost menacing.

  “Will his latest scandal impact his ability to lead the team?”

  “As long as he’s winning games, who cares what he does? He can have all the threesomes he wants.”

  The betrayal rocketed through him. Cassian didn’t need to hear anything else. He punched the power button off. “Jesus.” His own teammate had just confirmed tabloid gossip.

  “Yeah. That’s your backup. Nothing to do about it, but it’s good to know who he is.”

  “He’s full of shit. He was there. He knows it didn’t happen.”

  “Of course he does, and that’s the point. He’s shown his true colors. None of us will forget it.”

  And with six simple words, Dean managed to snap everything back into perspective. His other teammates had his back. Always. “He thinks he’s making me look bad, but no one likes a traitor. He really messed up.”

  “He’s just trying to get onto the field.”

  “Even if he makes it, his teammates are going to hate him.” Cassian didn’t think the comment would do more damage, but it’d fan the flames. “Listen, thanks for the heads-up. I’m going to head downstairs, meet up with the others.”

  “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yep. This week I’m all about the tour.” And Gigi. “Talk to you later.” Shoving the phone in his back pocket, he headed out of the room. There were a lot of things in his life right now he couldn’t control, so he’d concentrate on what he could.

  As he boarded the elevator, he recalled the others talking about hanging out in the bar, so he’d start there.

  The minute he hit the lobby he heard the music. Two voices, a man and a woman. Hard not to recognize the deep baritone of Grant Banner and the powerful, clear-as-a-bell voice of Gigi Cavanaugh. His pulse quickened at the idea of being near her.

  Being traded, his teammate’s fuckery…all of his troubles evaporated just knowing she was right there.

  Tonight, he’d talk to her. Apologize.

  Explain.

  The thought galvanized him.

  Standing at the back of the packed, noisy bar, he saw a sea of glowing screens. Countless people held their phones up high to record the famous musicians. Wanting to stay unnoticed, he stood against the wall, off to the side, where he got an unobstructed view.

  The yellow lights turned Gigi’s hair gold, and the gentle slope of her bare shoulder made his fingertips tingle. Because he wanted to touch that smooth skin.

  He wanted to kiss it, lick a path down to her cleavage.

  Too bad she’s staring into the eyes of another man. Someone who made her happy. The longer he watched, though, the more he got the impression they were writing a song together. Right then and there.

  The advantage of living in Boston was that he didn’t have to see Gigi with other men. As a Lollipop, her social media was the exact opposite of his. It was curated to show her doing wholesome things like shopping or getting gelato in Italy with her bandmates.

  So, the idea of watching a relationship develop between her and the country star on this tour? A jealous beast reared up and exposed its fangs.

  “Cassian Ellis, oh, my God.” A petite woman came up to him. She was beautiful. Black hair, dark eyes. With a hand on his forearm for balance, she got up on her toes, shouting over the music. “I heard you were staying here, and I drove right over. Trust me, we never get this much excitement in our town.”

  His gaze flicked back to Gigi. He really wanted to hear her sing. “Yeah?”

  “I can’t believe you’re standing here right now. Is this a dream? I want to pinch myself.” She settled back down. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  He felt it—the impulse to turn on the charm, chat her up—and he was damn glad Amie had pointed it out to him, because he didn’t want to do that anymore.

  “I was going to tell my friends to come with me tonight, but then I thought, Why would I do that, when I could spend time alone with you?”

  He liked to think he was a good guy, only hooking up with women he’d never see again. Which meant women like this one, someone he met on the road or in a bar.

  Since no one saw him with the same woman twice, people called him a playboy. But, really, he just didn’t date. Not only because he didn’t want to mislead anyone, but because he’d given his heart away long ago, and he knew to the bottom of his soul there was no other woman in the world for him.

  Which consigned him to a life of partying and meaningless sexual encounters.

  But, yeah, he got it. How he turned a friendly encounter into something that hinted of more. And it was time to cut it out. In this situation, he was representing the Mavericks—not looking to get laid.

  It was time to start writing his own headlines, instead of letting the paparazzi do it for him.

  “So, what do you say?” The perky woman had so much hope in her eye
s. “Get a drink?”

  He glanced at Gigi—shit. She’d clocked him. Some of her enthusiasm for the song had dimmed, and determination whipped through him.

  Just like in high school, he wanted to be a better man for her. He would be. Starting right now. “That sounds like a nice idea, but I’m pretty beat. I just came down to check on tomorrow’s itinerary.”

  “Oh, sure. I saw the pictures from today. The penguins? That was amazing.” She caressed his bare forearm. “I think it’s great that you take time out to do something like this. It means so much to the kids.”

  On another night, he’d have welcomed the invitation in her touch. He’d have hung out with her while she had a drink or two and then taken her upstairs for an hour of fun. But tonight…it wasn’t going to happen. “It means a lot to me to spend time with them.”

  “I’m a nurse. Pediatric, so I know what it means to those kids to get a visit from someone special like you.”

  The music stopped, and while the crowd clapped and encouraged them to play another song, Gigi focused on fitting her guitar back into its case. From this angle, he could see her profile, see how unhappy she’d become.

  I’m going to change that. “Hey, listen. It was nice to meet you.” He gave a polite smile as Gigi made her way out of the bar.

  And Cassian followed.

  “Wait up.”

  Gigi ignored him. She’d tried. She really had. To ignore him at dinner, pretend he was a stranger. To be the mature woman her parents expected of her. To put the tour, the patients, first.

  But watching Cassian flirt with every nurse, server, staffer…and now to witness him choosing his hookup for the night?

  No. Just no.

  She quickened her pace, hoping to catch the elevator before the doors closed.

  I’m sorry, but I’m obviously not over him.

  No, I’m not over what he did to me.

  Except…the lines were blurred, and she couldn’t see the difference between the two.

  “Can you please hold the elevator?”

  An older man’s hand reached out, keeping the doors from shutting.

  “Thank you.” She slid inside, standing her guitar on end and nodding to the elderly couple who looked like they might not be speaking to each other.

  Refusing to look into the lobby, she kept her eyes on the stickers that covered her case. Singapore, London, Istanbul. This. This is what I should be focused on.

  Instead of being embarrassed at being a Lollipop, she needed to be grateful for the experiences and opportunities it had offered. She needed to—

  “Hold up.” Cassian’s muscular arm sliced between the closing doors, and he leapt inside.

  “Careful,” the man said. “You don’t want to risk that throwing arm.”

  “Some things are worth it.” Cassian shot her a dimpled grin.

  Screw you.

  “You gonna make the Super Bowl next season?” the man asked.

  “Or die trying,” Cassian said.

  “You know,” the older man said. “As much as everyone loved Ben—and I’m a diehard Chargers fan, and even I loved him—he didn’t win. You…” He wagged a finger at Cassian. “You’re a winner.”

  “Yup,” Gigi said. “He scores big on and off the field.”

  Oh, that’s nice. A bitter Lollipop.

  Can you just keep your mouth shut around him?

  No one responded, and the tension between the two couples—although she and Cassian weren’t an actual couple—was loud.

  Cassian edged closer to her, and the older gentleman stood beside his rigid wife.

  “You could have defended me,” the woman whispered harshly. “You never defend me.”

  The gentleman, in a suit, watched the numbers light up on the panel over the doors.

  More anger radiated out of his wife. “You should have said something.”

  Gigi glanced at Cassian, who gave her a look that said, Uh oh.

  Bristling, the elegant woman looked at her husband, waiting for a response. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she stepped away from him.

  His arm looped around her waist, and he tugged her back. Into her ear, he said, “She’s an old, bitter woman. I chose you forty years ago. I still choose you today.” He nuzzled into her. “I will always choose you.”

  A shudder went through the woman’s body.

  The doors opened, and the couple walked out. As the woman turned to go down the hallway, the man reached for her hand, pulling her up against his body and—

  The doors closed before Gigi could see the kiss. She lowered her gaze so Cassian couldn’t see her smile.

  “What’s on your feet?” he asked.

  “Slippers.” She said it like, Duh.

  “Those are the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.”

  “They’re not ugly.” She lifted her foot to show him all angles. “My mom had them made for all of us. They’re Teddy.”

  “I can see that. But, objectively speaking, Teddy was ugly.”

  Their family dog had been a mutt with a tongue that flopped out of his mouth. Just like the little pink felt tongues sticking out of her slippers. “I don’t mean to hurt your brain or anything, but some of us see beyond superficial beauty.”

  “Okay, but who wants to wear the dead family dog on her feet?”

  “Oh, I can answer that.” She used a fake cheerful voice. “I know it’s a ridiculously hard concept for a cold-hearted asshole to understand, but we actually loved our dog. He was hilarious and loyal and snuggly and…literally the best dog ever.” She pressed the button to their floor.

  “That’s not going to get us there faster.”

  “Yeah, but it’s better than trying to explain the cuteness of these slippers to a man without a heart.”

  The elevator stopped, and Gigi reached for the handle of her guitar case. She walked out, tugged in two directions. She needed to get away from him as badly as she wanted more time with him.

  Time to lash out at him, banter with him, yell at him, but this tour was not the right place for any of that. God, she hoped his room wasn’t anywhere near hers.

  But, of course, she could hear his footsteps right behind her.

  “I have a heart.”

  “I know you’re a jock, and you probably had tutors and fan girls doing most of your work in college, but if you do a quick search of the human anatomy, you’ll see the heart and the penis are actually two different things.”

  He chuckled.

  It was his laughter that did it, pushed her over the edge. She whirled around to face him. “Do you care about anything? I mean, other than winning a football game, do you actually care about anything? Or anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  There was something in his tone that made her pay closer attention. And, even though they were in the hallway of the Marriott in St. Louis, it felt like being in their tree house all over again. It made her heart beat faster.

  But it was all a lie. Cassian Ellis was a liar. She turned and continued her march to her room. “Goodnight. Don’t forget to cover your stump before you hump.” Oh, God.

  Oh, my fucking God.

  Dear Universe, please suck that last sentence into some kind of black hole.

  “Tonight’s hookup is hot, by the way.” She kept her tone jovial in an attempt to cover her lame comment.

  “I’m not hooking up with her.”

  “Oh.” She shook her head with an expression that said, I’m such a dummy. “Of course. You’d already scheduled tonight’s fun earlier in the day. Which nurse? Or is it a patient’s Mom?” And then, feeling particularly mean, she said, “Or Dad. Whatever.”

  “Come on. You should know better than anyone not to believe what you read in the media.”

  “I don’t care who you sleep with, my point—”

  “You sure about that?” Whatever softness she’d seen a moment ago turned hard. “You seem very interested. Almost like you’re keeping tabs.”

  At her door, she swiped her keycard. �
�You have a girlfriend, and I watched you flirt with women right in front of her. Sorry, but even if I didn’t once know you, watching your blatant disrespect makes me a little ragey. Not that I feel sorry for your girlfriend, because it’s her choice to stay with a philanderer, but you really should pull your head out of your ass and think about how it feels to her when you do it in front of everyone on this tour.”

  “I don’t know, Gigi, rage is a pretty strong emotion. You sure there’s not something else going on? You wouldn’t have feelings for me, would you?”

  Because that would just be sad, wouldn’t it? To still be obsessed with the guy who’d treated her so cruelly? “Obviously I still have feelings. How could I not? I loved you, you jerk. And you knew it the whole time. You preyed on it.” The truth rang like shattered glass, jarring her bones. “That’s how you get off, isn’t it? You turn on all that charm, lead women to believe they’ve got something special with you, and then let them know exactly how you really feel by messing around with someone else right under their nose. You enjoy hurting them. That’s where you get your power. How did I never see it before? Wow. That’s…you need help. I thought you were just careless, but you’re sick.”

  Anger crackled off him like static electricity. “You don’t know how wrong you are. But, maybe, instead of analyzing me, you might want to take a better look at yourself.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He reached for a lock of her hair. “Who the fuck are you? Do you even know? The girl I knew wrote her own songs, had her own style. What happened to her?” He turned, heading back down the hall.

  But he didn’t get to walk away on that note. “I’ll tell you exactly what happened to her.” God, she was shouting at him in a hallway. But she didn’t care. She was a ball of fury. “You happened to her. She trusted you with all her heart, and you betrayed her. How am I supposed to trust my own instincts anymore after what you did to me? I can’t. So, no, I don’t know who I am anymore, but I’m damn glad to have seen you in action, because I have a feeling my confidence is about to come roaring back.”