Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

25. Mia

25

MIA

Ford did not react to that kiss like I did. My whole body had come alive and fallen apart in his hands. I had lost myself in his touch, in his lips, and when I realized how strongly I reacted, I had to pull back.

But Ford?

He looked pissed .

His features were drawn, jaw muscle ticking like a bomb, seconds from detonating. I wanted to ask him why he looked so upset, but I knew better than to ask questions I couldn't handle the answer to. Even if a million worse possibilities were whirling in my mind.

What if he was upset for how much I enjoyed it? Surely, he could tell. A part of me had thought he had liked it too, but maybe he really was just a great actor. What if he regretted kissing me?

My thoughts were in all sorts of tangles as Zeke pulled up to the convention center where we were having the team dinner. But one emotion started to take over all the others.

Indignant rage.

Who was Ford to be upset about kissing me? He might have thousands of groupies, but I was a catch too. Anyone would be lucky to kiss someone like me. And his reaction? It was humiliating. For both of us. It showed his poor taste and my stupidity at entering into this agreement. Not to mention my publicist had seen the whole interaction and was now busy looking at her folders—anything to avoid looking at the train wreck happening in front of her.

But I knew one thing. I wasn't someone to just sit back and take this kind of treatment. So a plan formulated in my mind as we got out of the car and walked inside.

In front of us, the room was laid out with dozens of circular tables with stunning centerpieces inspired by the Diamonds’ colors. The team’s event planner had done a beautiful job, and the business part of my brain that never turned off thought maybe I should poach them for Griffen Industries.

“Ford, you have to introduce us,” someone said, taking me out of my thoughts. It was a hulking guy even taller than Ford, dressed in boots, khakis, and a purple button-down that had the Diamonds’ logo above the breast. He had pale, freckled skin and a shock of rose-gold curly hair.

“Milo,” Ford said, shaking his friend’s hand and smiling. Finally, something other than that sour look. “Mia, this is the team’s center, Milo.”

I grinned at Milo and shook his proffered hand, saying, “It’s so nice to meet you! Pookie Butt’s said so much about you.”

Milo’s eyebrows scrunched together, an amused smile on his lips. “Pookie Butt?”

He glanced at Ford, who was staring at me in horror. My inner rebel was shouting her victory cry while on the outside, I pretended it was a slip. “Oh, silly me,” I said. “That’s what I call Ford.”

Milo covered his hand, laughing, while Ford said, “You do not call me that.” The tips of his ears were turning pink.

I looked up at him, giving him a falsely innocent smile. “It’s okay, Pookie, surely Milo’s had some pet names in his day. Isn’t that right, Milo?”

Milo’s face was red from silent laughter. “Right.” Milo waved a teammate over. “Krew, you gotta meet Pookie’s girlfriend. She’s a hoot!”

I squeezed Ford’s hand, hanging on to his arm like the adoring girlfriend Tallie told me to be.

He gave me a What the fuck are you doing look in return.

I held back a laugh as Krew approached with all the swagger of a professional wide receiver. His name was recognizable and often talked about on the news or in local circles. Tonight, he wore some slacks with white sneakers and a gray button-down that had the top few buttons undone. His perfectly white teeth contrasted his dark skin.

“What’s this about a Pookie?” Krew asked, rubbing his hands together. I could feel the other people milling around the room starting to take notice.

Milo gestured at Ford and said, “This is Pookie.” Then he looked at me. “Thank you, Mia, you’ve given us years of material.”

Take that, Ford, I thought. Out loud, I said, “It’s nice to meet you, Krew! And don’t worry, if we hang out long enough, you two will have nicknames too.”

They chuckled, and we chatted for a few minutes about what their potential nicknames could be. But they both agreed nothing would be as good as Pookie Butt.

When they left to get a drink, Ford took my hand and pulled me aside, saying, “Why don’t we get a quiet moment alone, darling ?” I could hear the tension in his voice and almost gulped.

He led me to a corner of the ballroom, away from everyone else, and leaned against the wall, bracketing his arms above my shoulders. “Hold on to my arm,” he ordered, stone faced.

“You’re bossy,” I countered.

“Just do it—it’s one of the poses Tallie wrote down.”

His dedication to her plan was endearing, which he had no business being right now. But I followed his directions, hanging on to his muscled arm and propping my foot against the wall. In some distant part of my mind, I wondered what we looked like to the others, if they thought us a cute couple or if we looked like we were putting on an act.

When I looked up at him, he lowered his head, putting his face inches from mine. Up this close I could see the scar slashing through the side of his chin, and I wanted to ask where it came from.

“What was that about?” he demanded.

I leveled a gaze at him. “Having a little payback.”

“Payback? What the hell for?” He looked genuinely confused, which stunned me more than it should have.

And now that he was asking, I realized I shouldn’t have let my pride get away from me. Because now I either had to lie to him or admit that he hurt my feelings—neither option was appealing.

So finally, I said, “Was it really that bad to kiss me back there?”

Now his eyebrows drew together, like that was the last question he expected me to ask. “What?”

“In the car,” I replied impatiently. “You looked pissed after you kissed me.” My voice broke, betraying my hurt. And I hated how quickly he picked up on it.

His posture shifted instantly, concern in his gaze. “Mia, that’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it?” I asked. “Because I’m about two seconds from calling this and going home. I’ll lose my job before I let a man humiliate me like that again.”

“Mia, I?—”

“Trouble in paradise?” came a silky voice.

We both stood straight and jerked our attention toward a woman in a slinky purple dress. She had almond-shaped brown eyes, straight brown hair, and a body like a model. And the way she looked at Ford, like he was a gazelle and she was a lion on the hunt, made me want to defend him in a way I’d never wanted to protect a man before.

What was going on with me tonight?

Before either of us could answer, an older man in a three-piece suit with a purple pocket square and a cowboy hat approached us, saying, “Ford, Mia, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Felicity Reynolds.”

Shit.

I’d been too preoccupied with Ford to put the pieces together. I knew Trent from different events, but Felicity hadn’t been a part of the same crowd. “Felicity,” I said, putting warmth in my voice and smile. “It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Mia Baird, CEO of Griffen Industries.”

She shook my hand, hers feeling so small and cold within mine. “Hi.” Her gaze was already back on Ford.

Trent said, “I made sure both of you were seated at the table with Felicity and me. We both wanted to get to know the happy couple a bit better.”

“Great,” Ford said. And I realized I could tell when he was faking a smile, because he was right now. None of the usual light was in his blue eyes. Instead, a hard, determined look took its place.

It gave me a little hope that maybe I could tell when he was putting on an act.

Trent turned, encouraging us to follow him. Ford slipped his hand through mine and gave me a look I could instantly read.

This was bad. Very bad.