Holding the drink in one hand, she leaned against the counter. Lord, she longed for a good old-fashioned cup of caffeine.
Restless, Piper checked her phone for the umpteenth time. Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Just a blank screen, mocking her growing desperation. She tapped her fingers, tapped her toes. She forced herself not to look at the clock. And failed miserably.
Ten o’clock? Where the heck was he?
Realistically, Piper understood that she was low on the priority list of the man who had just been named the Seattle Knights’ starting quarterback. But come on. Give a girl a break. She’d suffered with him, commiserated, railed at the injustice when he remained steadfastly calm.
Piper even shed a few tears—just a few. In private because she knew how Levi fell apart whenever she cried in earnest.
After all the years of getting pushed aside in favor of the latest next-great future superstar, Levi Reynolds’ time had finally arrived.
Doing a happy dance around the room, Piper shimmied her hips to the song playing in her head. Sometimes the good guys won, she thought. Took a while, but in the end, he’d received his reward for all the years watching the spotlight shine on everyone but him.
“You won’t want me to make a fuss,” Piper said, then smiled as she thought of the cake waiting to be cut. “Too bad. Tomorrow you can turn into the stoic athlete. Tonight, we celebrate.”
If Levi ever showed up.
Piper was about to call Darcy and ask if something happened when the doorbell rang. Setting aside her tea, she rushed across the room. Stubbing her toe on the coffee table, she stumbled, righted herself, and let out a string of obscenities colorful enough to make a sailor blush.
“Sometimes nothing else but a few good curse words will do,” she told herself, justifying the decimation of her resolution.
“Did I hear you say damn?” Levi asked before she could do more than open the door. “And shit. And fuck?”
Ah, the Levi Reynolds smile. Instinctive, or practiced, the man knew the secret of how to warm a woman’s heart. Though Piper was immune—for the most part—to the abundant charm that accompanied the slow curve of his lips, she’d learned to ignore the sizzle she occasionally felt along the surface of her skin.
An unexpected relationship that began in a moment of mutual misery and continued long after they dropped the fake-dating in favor of something solid, stable, and irreplaceable.
True, Levi had the kind of good looks that were hard to ignore. Naturally lanky, he worked hard to maintain a physically strong and muscled physique. Tall, broad-shouldered. Then there was that face. She would never categorize him as matinee idol pretty. But who would aspire to chiseled beauty when ruggedly handsome was an option?
If the number of women who stopped in their tracks whenever Levi entered a room could be used as an accurate measuring stick, the answer was a resounding no one in their right mind.
Giving herself a mental shake, Piper stood aside and let Levi enter. Down girl, she warned her traitorous libido. She’d decided long ago not to let the pull of an unwanted sexual attraction ruin what could only be categorized as a practically perfect friendship.
As Levi hung his jacket in the hall closet, Piper waited, her patience at an end. Beaming with pride and excitement, bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Congratulations!”
Levi swayed, his eyes turning glassy. Taking a step forward, he tripped and almost took a header into Piper’s dining room table. Alarmed, she rushed forward and tried to use her body to prevent him from hitting the floor.
Too late, Piper realized the futility of her plan. Her shorter, more slender body had not been designed to act as a landing pad for two hundred and ten pounds of solid male. Luckily, Levi grabbed her arms. Turning at the last second, he fell onto the sofa, bringing her with him.
Sprawled on Levi’s chest, Piper made an up-close and personal examination of his face. For want of a better word, the best way she could describe his expression was wonky.
“Are you drunk?” Piper asked as Levi blinked his gaze into focus.
“Nope.” Levi leaned close. “Sniff. Not a drop of alcohol has passed my lips since I called you from London.”
“Then why did you fall?”
“I’ve held myself upright most of the day.” With a sigh, he arranged himself into a comfortable position and settled Piper into the crook of his arm. “Sheer force of will and the fear of landing flat on my face in front of my team is all that kept my legs from buckling.”
“Are you ill?” Piper placed her palm on Levi’s forehead. To compare, she touched her face, then returned her hand to his. “You don’t feel feverish. Are you nauseous? Dizzy?”
“I’m terrified.” Levi buried his head in Piper’s neck.
Piper smoothed back a fall of gold-streaked hair from his face. Big, strong, Levi Reynolds reduced to a quivering mass of flesh and muscle. She never thought she’d live to see the day.
“Terrified?” she asked. “Of what? Football?”
“Of failing,” Levi’s fingers curled around the material of her t-shirt until his knuckles brushed her waist. “Of living up to lowered expectations.”
“Whose expectations are low?” Piper demanded. She was incensed at the thought. “Not Dylan’s nor the rest of the Knights.”
Levi’s head fell back against the cushion. Unfocused, he stared at the ceiling.
“Don’t be so sure,” he said. “I know my teammates support me, want me to succeed. However, they must have their doubts about whether I can still play the game.”
“You’re a little rusty,” Piper insisted. “That’s what happens when a bunch of fools leave a high performance, precision machine parked in the garage for too long.”
“Interesting metaphor.”
Piper was encouraged when she spied a slight twitch at the corner of Levi’s mouth. He might not feel like smiling yet, but he was close. As his friend, her job was to
