I followed Richard's finger and found Brett standing on the sidelines just as he described. Our eyes met, and he winked at me before joining his teammates in high-fives.
My stomach rolled again for an entirely different reason.
Richard came closer and said just loud enough for me to hear, "Are you sure there's nothing between you two?"
"Absolutely nothing." I watched as Summer broke away from the other cheerleaders to plant a kiss on Brett's cheek. "How can there be when he's with her?"
"Yeah, bummer. Maybe he's not that perfect after all."
The game ended with Eastline completely demolishing their opponent. Richard mentioned something to me that Brett had broken some kind of passing record, which I assumed would only increase his attractiveness to the schools that would give him a free ride for his throwing arm. I had to admit that I'd enjoyed the experience, maybe enough to come back as long as I had Richard beside me with his colorful commentary.
We filed out of the stadium with the crowd and their infectious energy.
"So, are you taking Morgan's gift and hitting the clubs after this?" I asked.
Richard rolled his eyes. "I wish. My grandmother is in town, and I have to play straight for a few more days if I want her to give me a car."
"What?" I pulled him aside, wondering if I heard him correctly.
"My grandmother is old school from China. She doesn't get the fact that I'm gay, and frankly, if I told her, she might keel over and die, so I'm pretending to be straight when I'm around her until I get my car. Once I have it, then I'm free to go where I want and I can send her pictures of me kissing all the hot guys on Capitol Hill."
"And I thought I was evil."
"We all play games to get what we want, Alexis—you included—so don't judge me."
"I don't pretend to be something I'm not."
"Right, you just keep telling yourself that, but you and I both know you're lying." He pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at me. "I've been watching you, and I know someone's getting you all hot and bothered, but you're too proud to admit it because you think he's beneath you."
"Are you sure you aren't suffering from some temporary delusions brought on by too much pompom shaking?"
He gave me a middle finger. "Any time you want that therapy session, let me know."
"Thank you, Dr. Phil," I said as he walked away.
It took about fifteen minutes for the crowds to thin enough to let me get close to the locker room. I leaned against the wall, listening to the players celebrate inside and becoming thoroughly disgusted by all their smack talk. It made me wish I'd packed along something intelligent to read.
The door finally opened with a blast of Axe-scented steam, and the football team filed out. Of course, Brett was one of the last ones to leave. I held out the carrier for him. "Now that the game's over, here you go."
His eyes shifted from side to side, and a tight smile formed on his lips. "Um, yeah, about that..." He pulled me aside so we wouldn't trip up the other players.
My jaw clenched, followed by a flare of anger that sent flames dancing in front of my eyes. I shook his hands off my shoulders. "Don't you dare even suggest it."
"Please. Alexis, just until morning—"
Summer cut him off by drawling out his name from the exit of the girls' locker room. "Don't keep me waiting too long."
"Oh my God." I delivered each word like the punches my carefully restrained fists wanted to deliver. Instead, I had to rely on words because there was a good chance the entire team would jump me if I dared to injure their star quarterback. "You're dumping the doll on me for another night so you can go fuck your girlfriend?"
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Fuck buddy, then."
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. A few blinks later, he asked, "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Don't get all prudish on me. I know damn well you're a complete asshole who's just out to score off the field."
"And you're so indignant and self-righteous, you won't even let me get a word in edgewise."
Now it was my turn to be stunned silent and left blinking like an idiot. He'd pulled out words I didn't think were in a jock's vocabulary. He'd even used them correctly.
"What I was trying to say is that if you agree to watch Junior tonight, you can drop him off at my house bright and early tomorrow morning, and I'll take him all weekend. That way, you're free to do whatever it is you do on weekends without having to endanger our project."
"I don't know where you live."
"I'll text my address to you in a few minutes." He turned around to say something to Sanchez, who slapped him on the back and urged him to "dump the bitch and get going."
I crossed my arms, the doll dangling from the carrier in my hand. "We are not amused."
"A thousand apologies, Your Majesty," Brett said with a mocking bow. "So, will you please keep Junior overnight?"
"I can drop it off bright and early?"
"Absolutely."
"And you won't be too hungover to take care of Junior?"
"Not likely," he said with a cocky grin.
"And I won't run into Summer doing the walk of shame?"
He had the decency to choke on a laugh. "Not a chance."
That made me feel a little better. "If I don't get a text from you in ten minutes, I'll start calling and interrupting any action you were hoping of getting."
This time, he didn't try to cover up his chuckle. He pulled out his phone. "I'm sending it to you right now."
I heaved an exaggerated sigh. Another night of interrupted sleep, but it would be nice to be doll-free all weekend. "Fine. But I'll be there at eight a.m. on the dot."
"I'll be up and ready. And please wear something G-rated—I don't want to have to explain your T-shirt to my little sisters." His thumbs flew over the surface of his phone. A few seconds later, my phone beeped. "Now you have my address. Are we good?"
Before I could answer, Summer appeared and tugged on Brett's arm. "Come on. I don't want to be late."
All I could think about as they walked away was that I hoped he had enough good sense to wear a condom.