Hands Down Page 51

I waited until the episode of the Turkish show ended and then got up and loaded the dishwasher. I waited until I had it all set, ready for me to start it tonight just in case I used a couple more dishes, and then went to check my phone. The light flashed in the front, and I saw the screen showed I had a new Picturegram message.

CJDANIELS: Anybody can do it?

THELAZYBAKER: Yeah, as long as they want to and are fine with me posting it when it’s done.

Beggars can’t be choosers. His reply came in immediately.

CJDANIELS: OK

CJDANIELS: Where at?

THELAZYBAKER: My apartment [smiley face emoji]

THELAZYBAKER: [address in Maps]

THELAZYBAKER: Did you think of someone who might be interested?

It was pushy, but… I needed to know so I could plan.

CJDANIELS: Me and Amari. We’ll take food. Is that OK?

Him?

THELAZYBAKER: YES! Are you sure?

CJDANIELS: Yeah. OK see you at 10

Holy SHIT. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. That hadn’t been my intention… mostly. I would have taken anyone he knew who was interested. I just didn’t want to tell anyone else who didn’t already know what I did on the side.

He didn’t need to do it, and maybe I should tell him not to feel obligated, but…

I’d be an idiot to ruin a good thing. And an idiot, I wasn’t. Well, most of the time I wasn’t.

I was waiting downstairs at the gate ten minutes ahead of schedule. CJ had sent me a message on Picturegram saying he was on his way, and I didn’t want him to get lost trying to find my apartment. It was a little tricky the first time, and since he was doing me a huge favor, I didn’t want him to get irritated driving around and then decide to leave.

I still couldn’t believe he was coming to do this with me—not because he was a professional football player, but because he didn’t owe me anything. If I’d learned anything over the last few years, it was that most people didn’t usually do nice things unless they got something from it.

And I could literally not think of anything he’d get from doing this. He had way more followers on Picturegram than I did. Apparently, he was one of the most popular players on the White Oaks.

The least I could do was not make him regret doing me such a huge favor.

A red Jeep suddenly turned and pulled into the driveway to the complex, and I recognized the car as one I’d seen in Trevor’s driveway before. Sure enough, the window rolled down and a familiar face appeared on the other side of it. I jogged over and waved. “Hi, CJ.”

“Hey.” He smiled at me.

Someone in the passenger seat leaned forward and lifted a hand. It was a man I had never seen before.

I lifted a hand too. “Hi,” I called out before focusing back on CJ. “I can hop in the back and give you directions if you want.”

“The door behind me is open,” he agreed, the doors unlocking.

It took me a second to open the back—freezing because Trevor was sitting in the other rear passenger seat with an impatient expression plastered on his face as he looked at me—and hop inside. “Hi, Trevor,” I greeted the older man.

“Hi,” he replied and then looked down at his phone.

All right. Well, that had gone well. I hoped he wasn’t the “friend” that wanted to participate in the video, but I’d take him too if there wasn’t another choice.

I leaned forward to give CJ the code to get into the complex. As the doors opened, I patted one of his shoulders. “Thank you so much for coming,” I said before turning to the man in the passenger seat as Trevor’s gaze seemed to burn a hole into me.

The man in the passenger seat had his body angled toward the center of the Jeep, dark brown eyes locked on me. He was grinning. Big-time.

I shot my hand toward him. “Hi. I’m Bianca.”

The man, who I could finally see had a crazy good-looking face—that was almost as good-looking as Zac’s—that was covered in light brown skin, heavy dark eyebrows, and a smile that looked almost as friendly as… well, Zac’s. Almost. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I know who you are,” he said with a blinding white smile. “I’m Amari,” the stranger said, releasing my hand and confirming it was the man CJ had told me about. He was another football player, one who had trained with Zac before the season had started, if I remembered correctly.

I smiled, then started giving directions on how to get to the apartment. CJ found a visitor’s spot close by, and I waited until we had all gotten out of the car and led them toward my apartment.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming to do this,” I called out so that they could hear me. I glanced at Trevor, who today was wearing dark slacks and a light gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he stood there with a watchful expression on his face. “If you change your mind, I swear you can back out at any second. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Asking was a shot in the dark, I didn’t expect anything.” I smiled at all three of them, and it was only Trevor who didn’t return the expression. “Really. No pressure at all.”

CJ shifted where he stood, and I noticed that he was in a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his only jewelry a heavy gold watch. He looked nice.

“I can’t cook to save my life,” he said suddenly.

I had to think about that for a second. “That’s okay. I’d probably scream and cover my head if someone threw a football at me. And we’re just going to be farting around. It’s fine.” I turned to the older man, needing to prepare myself. “Trevor, did you want to be in one too?”

The older man yawned before replying, “No. I’m only here to make sure he isn’t getting wrangled into doing a porno or something else stupid.”

I blinked and had to make sure I heard that correctly.

I had.

“Nope. I promise. No freaky-deaky shit. That’s on Tuesdays.” I blinked again. “I’m kidding. I have an LLC, an accountant, and a real business bank account. I have a SEP IRA.”

He didn’t think I was funny, and it wasn’t the first time someone didn’t. Oh well.

Turning back around, I made my way toward the stairs that went up to the second floor. “CJ, did you end up liking the frozen yogurt?”

“I ate it all that same day.”

I smiled.

“Almost ate Zac’s too, but he got to it before I did.”

That sucker had never told me he ate it, much less if he’d liked it.

“You had frozen yogurt?” Trevor asked out of nowhere.

CJ answered him.

“I have a little bit leftover if you want it, Trevor. It’s strawberry-flavored,” I offered the uptight man.

He paused to think about it. “I do love strawberry.”

I bet he did. “It’s yours. CJ, do you have any requests for what you want?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Banana bread. If you make frozen yogurt in the future, I’ll take some too.”

I’d make him both. It was the least I could do. “Amari?”

“Anything.”

We reached my floor; my door was the second one down. Unlocking it, I ushered the three of them in, giving Amari and Trevor an extra smile as they entered.