Tuesday went fast because she was working nonstop in the small field trailer on the construction site. It was a revolving door of men who were being processed as new employees to work on the site for the next two years. By the time five o’clock rolled around she was knee-deep in paperwork and glancing at her watch. She’d promised Brooks she would meet him at her hotel at six o’clock. He wanted to take her to his favorite steakhouse.

She cut out just a few minutes after five and hurried back to her hotel to change into an black, high-waisted, A-line skirt that fell to her knees and a white blouse. She wanted to look nice, but getting herself gussied up too much was just a waste of time. Friends, she reminded herself. Don’t get yourself wrapped up in him.

Her ballet flats were still pristine and white because they were new and never-worn. Marie looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was up with a few tendrils escaping to tickle the back of her neck. Her makeup was light and the skirt was flattering to the figure. She wasn’t a supermodel, but she didn’t look too shabby. She heard Jameson’s words in her head. Some men find voluptuous women to be much more desirable. Well, maybe she stood a chance at finding a guy who wanted to get her naked, then. It just wasn’t the guy that had been worming his way into her heart over the past few months.

Brooks was prompt. He texted her two minutes before six to tell her he was downstairs. She found him waiting by the doors in the lobby. He was in a pair of slacks and a dark red sweater. And he looked absolutely gorgeous, especially when he smiled warmly at her.

“Hi,” she said. He didn’t respond verbally, but he did wrap both his arms around her. It made her feel tiny and delicate. God, he smells delicious, she thought while her face was pressed into his chest.

“Hi,” he finally said, pulling back and holding her shoulders to give her a once over.

Marie blushed, squirming under his gaze. “You look good,” she mumbled.

“So do you. Cute skirt.” He flipped the edge of it with his hand. There were flowers embroidered in white thread. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving. I had to skip lunch.”

“Your chariot awaits,” he said, gesturing to the door.

He had a new vehicle. It was a gleaming, black SUV and the inside still had the smell of a brand new car. He opened the door for her and helped her inside by holding her hand. His palm was warm and dry and she felt incredibly awkward trying to climb into the vehicle in her skirt.

Brooks shut her door and walked around the front of his car to get into his side. This was beginning to feel like a date. Marie’s stomach flopped over. And then she looked out the windshield and saw the odd way he was holding his shoulder.

“What happened to your shoulder?” she asked him once he settled in behind the wheel.

He gave a short laugh under his breath. “Just a little sore,” he said, turning the engine over.

“Did you have it looked at?”

“Medical staff took a look at me after the game last night. I’ll be fine.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

He glanced over at her and smiled. His smile made her want to melt. “Don’t worry about it, penguin. I’m fine.”

She sighed and settled back into the seat. “Nice ride.”

“It’s new.”

“I can tell.”

“Are you ready for the best dinner you’re going to have all year?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Bold claims, twenty-one. Real bold.”

“I can deliver,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot and weaved through the busy streets of D.C. until he was in the suburbs. He was listening to a mix of classic rock on his iPod and Marie made fun of him when Bad Company’s Ready for Love started playing.

By then they were pulling into the lot of the steakhouse. “Hey, don’t knock it. This is a damn good song.”

“Bad Company?”

“Hell, yeah.” That said, he levered himself out of the car, holding the arm of his shoulder close to his body.

She pushed open her door, but he was there to catch it and help her out of the taller-than-usual vehicle. With his help, she didn’t look quite so clumsy trying to get her feet on the ground.

The restaurant was obviously expecting them because the hostess ushered them toward the back. There was a table tucked away in an alcove waiting for them. “Pulling out all the stops, Brooksy?” she asked, giving a big smile.

“Wining and dining is how we usually convert fans.” He sat down across from her and picked up a menu. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but his strong hands holding up the expensive-looking menu that was in a leather folio. Why did he want to spend an evening with her? Didn’t he have Ellens to date? Platinum blondes who did yoga and wore spandex in public without looking like a fashion faux pas?

The menu looked good, so she let him order for her. Or at least that’s what she told herself. Really, her head wasn’t working quite right and she couldn’t read the menu because he was looking at her with those blue eyes.

“I have something for you in the truck,” he said when the waiter left.

“What do you have?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a smile. It reached his eyes and made them shine brilliantly.

They talked about the work she was doing in D.C. and his hometown in Canada. He tried to convince her that she would love it there, but she thought he was crazy. Even Pittsburgh got too cold for her during the winter.

Dinner was, as promised, delicious. Brooks was right about it being the best meal she’d had all year. While the waiter was running Brooks’ credit card, he convinced her to go to a local lounge with him. She made him promise he would have her back to the hotel before midnight. She had to be up by seven o’clock for work tomorrow.

When they had settled into their seats in his truck, he reached into the floor behind her seat, pulled out a small shopping bag, and sat it in her lap.

“What is this?” Marie asked, smiling at him.

“It’s for you,” he said, starting up the vehicle.

She stuck her hand inside and felt the unmistakable material of a jersey. Marie laughed lightly as she pulled out the red Capitals jersey with number 21 in white across the back and on the sleeve. “Oh boy, I guess I have to wear this tomorrow.”

“You do. It’s mine.”

“I see that.”

Brooks merged into traffic. “No, it’s mine. It’s game-worn. I washed it, though. Otherwise you would have died from the stench.”

She didn’t know what to say. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was giving her his personal jersey. Sure, he probably had several. But this was not what she expected. Marie brought the fabric up to her nose and all she could smell was the faint scent of laundry detergent and him. His body, his cologne, whatever it was.

“I told you I washed it,” Brooks said, glancing over at her.

“I know. It smells like you, though.”

His eyes jerked back to the road and Marie worried that she might have went too far. Was it weird that she was smelling his jersey? Did he think she was hitting on him? Was he uncomfortable with that kind of attention from her?

They were at the lounge in no time at all. It was an unassuming brick building with a half-empty parking lot. He helped her out of the vehicle and then fiddled with his phone as they walked toward the door.

“A couple of the guys are here,” he said, holding the door open for her and nodding at the burly bouncer.

Marie’s stomach dropped into her feet. She wasn’t ready for this. She just wanted a quiet evening with Brooks. She followed him back to the V.I.P area and saw a friendly face in Mike Green. He was on a sofa with a beer in his hand. John Carlson was sitting to the left of Mike. And a very pretty girl with striking black hair was sitting on Carlson’s lap. Oh God, she thought, I can’t do this.

“Hey, Marie!” Mike said, standing and giving her a brief hug before falling back gracefully onto the sofa. He seemed unaffected by the woman in Carlson’s lap.

“This is Marie,” Brooks said to Carlson. Then he nodded at his teammate and told Marie his name like she didn’t already know.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, leaning forward and shaking Marie’s hand. The woman on his lap remained where she was, like a doll.

Brooks sat down on a love seat to the right and motioned for Marie to join him. “What’s up with the puppet?” she asked quietly, looking over at the girl again.

“No brain cells. I think it might be caused by overuse of hair products.” He gave her a cheeky smile.

“I’m gonna grab another beer. Want anything?” Mike asked.

Brooks looked at her and she nodded. “Get us a couple beers. You pick,” he told his teammate.

Carlson had his hand up the girl’s skirt and they were whispering to one another. Marie felt out of place and uncomfortable. This was not her native habitat.

“I’ve missed you,” Brooks said, dragging her attention away from the display in front of her.

His comment made her blush. “Aww, shucks. Why would you miss silly old me?”

“Because I like you, penguin.”

“We talk every day.”

“It’s not the same as having you close.” He tweaked her nose with his hand. She tried to force a smile, but it was hard. He was making this hard. She needed to keep her distance, but his easy manner with her made her crave more of his attention, the kind of attention a boyfriend would give.

Mike showed up with the beers and a girl to help him carry them. He left theirs on the table in front of them and left again with the girl. Marie tracked them to the dance floor. He moved fast. Two minutes and he had a willing bedfellow.

“Is your shoulder still bothering you?” she asked, reaching out to touch his right bicep.

Brooks leaned into her touch. “A little. It’s stiff.”

“You should get a massage.”

He shook his head. “I think that hurts more than helps. It’ll be fine once I get back to practice tomorrow.”

She dropped her hand and took a long draw off the bottle of beer before sitting it down again.

“You have any more dates with creeps?” Brooks asked.

The lights were dim and she couldn’t make out the finer details of his handsome face. But she could hear the small smile that lifted the corners of his mouth up. His leg was touching the fabric of her skirt, but not her leg. At least not yet.

“No. I told you I’m going for crazy cat lady now. I just need some cats and I’ll be set.”

“Was the guy who came onto you good-looking at least?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out his expression. Where were these questions coming from? “He was out of an underwear catalog. Pretty hot.”

“And you weren’t interested?”

She frowned and took a drink of beer to buy some more time to think over her answer. “He was married. And I’m not the sex-in-the-bathroom type.”

“You weren’t tempted?”

Marie laughed nervously. “Sure. It’s been a while. I was tempted. But I think I’d like to save my next roll in the hay for someone who doesn’t have a ring on his finger.”

Brooks nodded slowly and downed half his beer in two seconds.

“Why are you so interested in my lack of a love life?” she asked, looking out at the dance floor.

He moved closer, his good arm lifting up to rest on the back of the love seat behind her head and his body turning to face her. “I want to see you happy.”

She blushed and twisted the hem of her skirt in her fingertips. “I’ll be fine. I’m happy right now.”

For a moment, she dared a glance into his eyes and saw that they were dark and serious. Woo, boy. That was intense. What had gotten into him?

“You know if you’re ever... tempted to take that guy up on his offer...”

Marie laughed and shook her head.

“Seriously,” Brooks said. “If you’re ever tempted, you give me a call.”

“So you can talk me out of it?” she asked.

“So I can take his place.”

She froze, her hand halfway to the bottle on the table in front of them. Brooks’ body was radiating heat, she could feel it through his clothes and hers. And his eyes were still staring her down. She couldn’t bear to meet them, not now. What was he offering? A turn at the Brooks Laich ride? She felt a shot of embarrassment run through her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she mumbled.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she repeated. Her embarrassment was turning into anger. “I don’t want a pity fuck.”

“I didn’t...” he started out, but she cut him off.

“I’d rather not get any than get it from someone who thinks I’m a charity case.” Her voice was clipped and furious.

Brooks grabbed her wrist as she made to stand up. “Marie, what makes you think I offered out of pity?”

She felt her lips draw out in a thin line. “Because you look like you and I look like me. And we’re friends, nothing more.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“You’re out of my league,” Marie replied flatly. She tugged her wrist out of his grasp. “Can you take me back to my hotel?”

When she finally looked down to meet his gaze, he looked stricken. She almost felt bad for her angry words. “Yeah, sure.” He stood up and followed her out to the car.

The ride to the hotel was silent. When he pulled into the circular drive in front, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, penguin. I was out of line.”

The hardness in her heart melted at his soft voice and the nickname he’d given her. She pressed herself back into the headrest before rolling her head over to look at him. “Don’t play with me,” she said softly.

His blue eyes were wide. “I’m sorry.”

“And don’t feel sorry for me. I’ll live.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for me. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

She didn’t understand what he meant, but his apology sounded sincere. “Can we forget all that ever happened?”

Brooks nodded. “Yes. It’s done, never happened.”

“Thanks,” she said, slipping out of the vehicle.

“Don’t forget your jersey.”

Marie grabbed the bag out of the floor and waved goodbye to Mr. Perfect.

Notes

if you want to know the guilty pleasure that Marie made fun of him for listening to, you can take a listen here:
Ready for Love