Dirty Jock Page 10

  "What's not to know? You either like him or you don't? I'm not asking you to solve some advanced algebra here, Del. It's a pretty simple question."

  When it came to Tanner Garrick, nothing was simple.

  I began with every reason in the world to hate the man. Some of them were even justified. But it seemed like every time I spent time with him, another one of my preconceptions about him shattered.

  "Why does it even matter? It's not like I would ever act on it."

  "Why the hell not?"

  "Hello? Gia. Remember her?"

  Roxie put her own cup of steaming tea down onto the coffee stained table we sat at and shot me a puzzled look.

  I lowered my voice, as if anyone in the crowded coffee shop cared what we were talking about, or could even hear us over the din of all of the other conversations going on around us. "They were together, and she was my best friend. That would be... I dunno, wrong."

  "Wait, excuse me, I just want to make sure I didn't miss something. By together, you mean they had sex a total of one time almost three years ago and then never spoke again, right? Tanner hasn't admitted to some sort of secret relationship with her after that, did he?"

  I shook my head.

  "Right, so... what the hell are you talking about, girl? There's no gray area here. The man is fair game."

  "But he's Izzy's father," I reminded her.

  "And again I have to ask: So? Is her father supposed to remain single for the rest of his life?"

  "No, but—"

  "But nothing, so if he's going to date and you like him, then why can't he date you?"

  "Hold on, I never said I liked him."

  Roxie just raised her eyebrow at me and blinked.

  I stared back, but eventually I just sighed and mumbled what I hoped was a face saving rationalization. "Well it's true, I never said it..."

  I thought back to the way he'd reached out to grab me when I stumbled at the park, and then didn't let go. Did he even realize how long he had held onto my arm? I had been afraid to move, just in case he realized what he was doing and pulled away. But the memory of how his firm grip to steady me relaxed into a warm and gentle touch was burned into my skin. I could still feel his hand there.

  Maybe I really did like him. A little, anyway. I certainly didn't hate him anymore. That feeling had fallen away once I realized that he was serious about giving me virtually unrestricted access to Izzy.

  Still, the whole thing was very confusing and I wasn't ready to define how I felt about the man. We were still from two completely different worlds and just because he was gorgeous and we were both young and single and were thrust into a situation where we were destined to spend a lot of time together, didn’t mean I was obligated to throw myself at him. Besides, what would the two of us dating do to Izzy? I mean, she was young enough now that it wouldn't affect her, but as she got older it might be confusing. Assuming Tanner and I were still together at that point. Which brought up another point, what if we did get together and then broke up, how would meetings with Izzy be handled then? Things would be tense and awkward and…

  I was getting way too ahead of myself.

  "Can we just change the subject?" I pleaded.

  "Hey, you invited me, remember? You even bribed me with free tea." She raised her cup and winked.

  "Yes, and now I realized what a horrible mistake that was."

  She stuck her tongue out at me over her cup before taking another drink.

  Somehow the conversation had gotten completely derailed from what I really wanted to talk about. As soon as she heard that Tanner and I had taken Izzy to the park together, Roxie started drilling me with questions about what that meant and my feelings about the man. I never even got to mention the message on my phone that I hadn't checked until getting home last night.

  It was Miss Myers, letting me know that she was planning a surprise visit on Sunday evening to check on Izzy. The plan was to show up around bedtime, when she figured he was most likely to be home and probably tired from a long day, maybe off guard. On top of what she called an extensive and critical examination of Tanner's home, she was also going to focus on his specific plans for his daughter once football season started.

  Essentially using the information I'd provided to attack his weakness.

  And I was feeling incredibly guilty about that.

  The CPS agent said that if she could get Garrick to admit that he still had no idea what to do or that he was just going to hire strangers to take care of Izzy most of the time for him, then she might be able to use that as leverage to eventually argue that he was unfit as her primary caregiver. That she would be better off with me.

  Even though I wasn't her mother, Miss Myers seemed confident that my familiarity, love and proven dedication to Izzy would go far with the courts. Certainly a lot further than her simple biological connection to an uncommitted father that was planning on disappearing for weeks at a time to play football while paying a stranger to raise her. She also pointed out that his total absence from her life for the first couple of years was another big point in our favor.

  Not that that was his fault.

  In fact, the only person really at fault for this whole big mess was me. I'd created every single problem, from simply mentioning Tanner in the first place when Gia had no intention of ever looking him up, to hiring Miss Myers specifically because of her reputation. I even supplied the very information she was planning to use to attack him.

  And while this could all lead to me getting Izzy back for good at some point, I wasn't sure that was the best thing for her anymore.

  Garrick wasn't actually that bad.

  He was pretty good, actually. Izzy seemed to already adore him, and his feelings for her were also very clear. I almost had a police record to prove it.

  That was the dilemma I really wanted to talk about with my friend.

  Initially, anyway. Now I wasn't willing to risk it. Roxie was clearly in the pro-Tanner camp, and so I couldn't predict how she would react if I told her what I'd done. I was feeling guilty enough.

  "Well," she finally said, fixing me with a fresh stare, "if you aren't going for Mr. Football and you don't have Izzy to look after anymore, then I think you should finally start thinking seriously about your career."

  "You're referring to Paris, I presume?"

  "Paris," she nodded.

  Her gallery's show was coming up soon, and it really was a great opportunity. But I still wasn't sure I was ready to make that sort of commitment.

  "I don't know, Rox. Three weeks is a long time to be away."

  "Only when you had Izzy to look after. But now what’s your excuse? It's time you started thinking about Delaney again and taking your career seriously. You're a great artist, but no one knows you. There will be some big names coming to this event. The featured artists rotate every week, and each one will draw a fresh group of buyers and fans. And most of those people will also spend time looking at the work from all the other up and coming artists, like you, that make up the rest of the show. They'd be more than happy to find new artists to obsess over."

  I nodded as she spoke. There was nothing to disagree with, but she'd made this pitch to me before. Izzy wasn't the only thing holding me back, though. Even now with Miss Myers dangling the idea of her eventually coming back into my life, that would take months to resolve. I'd be long back by then.

  "I get it Rox, I really do, and I appreciate the leap of faith you're offering me here. But, I mean, money is tight. Tickets to Paris, three weeks of food and hotel bills..."

  "So Airbnb it. I'm sure you can find something cheap in the area. And lunch and dinner are provided by the Gallery, so how much could a croissant and cup of coffee for breakfast each day cost? That just leaves the flight, and I'm willing to bet that you can get something reasonable through a last-minute booking. There's always a single seat in the middle somewhere that the airline needs to fill."

  "Great, twelve hours stuck between an old lady that falls asleep on
my shoulder and an overweight man who doesn't believe in deodorant. Sounds like a wonderful trip."

  "Uh, we're talking about Paris here. There are no overweight men or old ladies. Everyone is fit and looks fabulous."

  "Really? When were you last there?"

  "I read magazines," Roxie huffed. "Actually, I've been working on getting the gallery to fly me out for part of the show. Maybe a week or so. My god, Del, can you imagine how much fun we'd have in Paris at night?"

  "I thought you just said I had to take my career seriously? How does Parisian partying fit into that plan?"

  "Hush." She waved away my comment with her hand. "Are you in or not?"

  "I'll think about it," I conceded, which was more than I'd ever agreed to in the past. By the smile on her face, Roxie hadn't failed to notice that either. She probably thought she'd won.

  But I really hadn't made up my mind. Three weeks really was a long time to be away from home. Just because Izzy had someone to look after her now, didn't mean she wouldn't miss me. Or that I wouldn't miss her.

  And what if things really were starting to heat up between Tanner and I, and I hadn't totally screwed them up through my meddling? Was that something I was even interested in pursuing? Disappearing for weeks wouldn't be healthy for any sort of emerging relationship, never mind one with someone like Tanner Garrick.

  Unless he really was serious about changing. The old Tanner would have probably dated half a dozen girls in a three-week period, but I felt like he took what I said to heart about setting a good example for Izzy.

  Then again, it was no easy task for a leopard to change his spots.

  I took a final swallow from my paper cup and smiled weakly at Roxie.

  I couldn't really blame her, but the whole point of this afternoon was so that she could help me sort shit out, not leave me feeling even more confused than ever.

  20

  Tanner

  "Yeah, well if the team wants to suspend their best wide receiver because he doesn't have time to go to every stupid meet and greet or publicity event during the off season, then let them. I'm surprised they even noticed, anyway. Aren't they too busy jerking off Bullet?"

  "Flash, listen, anyone with brains knows you're the star of that team. Why do you think they want you at these events so badly?"

  I could always count on my agent to kiss my ass. But that wasn't going to change my mind this time.

  "I've got shit going on in my life right now, Vince, and I don't need so spend my off season sucking up to a bunch of deep pocketed b-listers just to help out the league. I'll see everyone I need to see at practice next month."

  "At least come to the—"

  I hung up the phone. I didn't pay Vince the money I paid him to shill for the Stars. He worked for me, so he'd have to find a way to sell the fact that I'm wasn’t going to be playing the PR game for a while. I had more important priorities now than face time with a bunch of connected and entitled fans. They can all suck up to Bullet. He loves that shit.

  I did too, not that long ago. Before Izzy.

  Surprisingly, that thought filled me more with embarrassment than regret. I thought I'd miss the limelight of the off season: the parties, the ass kissing, meeting important people—politicians, CEOs, hot celebrity women—who wanted to shake my hand or tweet a selfie with me, sometimes inviting me back to their place for a quick fuck or to get wasted on expensive booze or drugs.

  But now that whole lifestyle seemed... empty.

  "That De-ainy? Me talk?"

  Izzy and I were sitting on the floor, coloring on paper instead of the walls for once. I set the phone down next to me.

  "No, that wasn't Delaney."

  "Where De-ainy?"

  "I'm not sure, Iz. Probably at home."

  Maybe getting ready for a date. It was Friday after all. That's what young, hot, single people did on Friday nights.

  Why did that thought bother me so much when the last one didn't? Didn't I just decide I wasn't jealous of going out and having a good time anymore?

  The difference was Laney. I wasn't jealous about the idea of her going out and having a good time. I was jealous of her doing that with someone else.

  "Coloring?"

  I laughed and reached out to rub her dark hair. "Probably not, munchkin." Although perhaps the idea wasn't so far-fetched. Laney was an artist, I just had no idea what type. Did she paint pictures? Carve models from stone? Blow fancy glass sculptures? "But maybe..."

  Izzy nodded. "De-ainy coloring," she decided.

  "Does she do that a lot? Color?"

  Another nod. "Messy."

  "She's messy when she colors? Does she use paint?"

  "Paint fun. Messy."

  That seemed like a yes to me, and made some sense. Laney being a painter would certainly explain Izzy's obsession with coloring over every surface of my penthouse. She may not be Laney's biological daughter, but she spent more time with her than her own mother from what I understood. Probably watched her draw and paint all the time.

  Actions speak louder than words, Garrick.

  The words echoed back at me, but I hadn't forgotten them. I was already turning down every opportunity to live my old lifestyle, and there had been plenty. Seemed like every phone call and email I got lately was another invitation to go out and party. And every time I turned them down, they seemed shocked.

  The old Tanner Garrick never said no to anything. But the old Tanner Garrick also didn't have a two-year-old daughter watching his every move.

  Every time I looked at Izzy, I saw innocence. She was so young and so pure, and I knew there was a whole mad world out there just waiting to corrupt and destroy that. I knew it because I'd been a part of it not very long ago. Drinking and fucking and not giving a second thought to consequences. How many young women came looking for an autograph and ended up riding my dick before they left? How many virgins did I deflower? How much purity did I, personally, destroy?

  In the past, I would have laughed at that thought. Now the whole idea made me uncomfortable.

  Someone would be trying to do that to Izzy one day. Someone would try to rob my daughter of her innocence and purity, and forever change her.

  But they'd have to get through me, first.

  I decided then that she wasn't allowed to date until she was twenty-five. There were far too many Tanner Garricks out there in the world.

  "Look dada."

  I'd printed off a bunch of pictures of princesses for Isabella to color. Currently she was working on turning Snow White into a mess of purple and green.

  "That's fabulous, Iz. Great use of color. The green really brings out her eyes."

  "Show De-ainy?"

  "Sure, next time we see her we can show her. Or maybe you can even give her that one to take home." I was running out of room on my own fridge. But it was still better than the walls.

  "Show now?"

  "No, next time we see her."

  "See her now?"

  I sighed. Sometimes our conversations seemed like a recreation of Who's On First.

  "She's not here now. It's four thirty on a Friday, she's probably busy."

  "Dada call." Izzy leaned forward onto all fours and crawled to the phone. She grabbed it and handed it to me.

  I sighed again. It wasn't that I was opposed to the idea of seeing Laney again, but she probably already had plans and I didn't want to get the kid's hopes up. Not to mention, even if she wasn't busy, would she even want to come over after just being here a couple of days ago? She was going to start thinking that either I really needed her help or that I was looking for excuses to see her again. And I certainly didn't need her help. We may have had a rough first couple of days, but I really felt like Izzy and I were bonding and getting into a groove.

  Which meant that she’d probably think it was me that wanted to see her, even though this time it really was Izzy requesting it.

  "Call De-ainy," she insisted again, pressing the phone against my chest.

  "Fine," I said, diali
ng the number. "But it’s your idea, so you can ask her yourself. Just remember that she's probably busy tonight, so don’t get upset. She can always come over another time and see your picture." I knew that most of what I said had been ignored, but it didn’t hurt to try to prepare her for disappointment anyway.

  The phone rang a couple of times before she answered it.

  "Hey Laney, Tanner here. Someone wants to ask you something."

  I handed the phone back to Izzy without waiting for a response.

  Her little face lit up with a huge smile and she clapped her hands before grabbing the phone and putting it against her cheek. Upside down.

  "De-ainy? De-ainy?"

  "Hold on there munchkin," I said, taking the phone and spinning it around before placing it properly against her ear. I kept a hold on it as she spoke.

  "De-ainy?"

  I was close enough that I could hear both sides of the conversation.

  "Hi sweetie, what a nice surprise!"

  "You come?"

  "What? Come where?"

  "Come see."

  "Come see what?"

  "Come see!" I could see by the expression on her face that Izzy was starting to get stressed at not being understood over the phone. In person it was a lot easier to get her point across when she could gesture at things, as she was doing now to the picture she had colored.

  "Here, let me try," I said, prying the phone gently away from her head.

  "Hey, me again. Iz has been coloring and wanted to show you her picture. I told her you were probably busy tonight though, but she really wanted to tell you about it."

  "Oh, well that was sweet to hear from her. You can tell her I was just doing a bit of coloring of my own."

  "Right, I think she told me you're a painter. A messy one, apparently."

  Laney's laugh sent a shiver up my spine. "Yeah, I guess I am."

  "Anyway, like I said, you're probably going to be getting ready for a hot date tonight but regardless, it doesn't really make sense for you to come all this way just to see her picture."