The Baller Read online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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Delilah: Guess you’ll find out when you see my tan marks.

Brody: Your ass is going to have my hand marks when I see you.

Delilah: Hmm . . . I might like that.

Brody: Are you fucking with me?

Delilah: About the drinks and pool? Yes. The handmarks . . .

Brody: I’m getting wood on the plane next to a 325-pound linebacker.

Delilah: LOL

Brody: Just announced we’re finally cleared for takeoff. Gotta power off. Wish you were coming home with me. Even after three days with you, I miss you as soon as I leave.

My heart swelled a little in my chest. The man quite literally charmed the pants off me, without even trying. I was crazy about him and finally learning to sit back, relax, and enjoy it.

Delilah: Me too.

It was after midnight when my phone buzzed again. I had just fallen asleep. Brody’s name flashed at me on the screen. I answered, smiling, grogginess in my voice. “Hey.”

“I woke you?”

“It’s okay. I must have just fallen asleep.”

“I shouldn’t have called so late. Sorry. I’ll call you in the morning.”

The tone of his voice made me sit up. I reached over and turned on the light. “What’s the matter?”

“I picked up my messages when we landed. Broadhollow Manor called. They took Marlene in an ambulance to the hospital.”

“What happened?”

“They’re not sure. She was a little out of it during the day. Then she took a nap, which isn’t like her, and never woke back up. Her vitals started slipping, so they called an ambulance.”

“Oh God. I’m sorry. Are you heading there now?”

“Yeah. They took her to St. Luke’s. I’m in a cab on my way.”

Brody barked orders at the cabby for the next five minutes, telling him not to take certain streets. The stress level in his voice rose as he got closer. “I’m gonna jump out and walk the last few blocks. Traffic is at a standstill on Eighth Avenue. At fucking midnight.” He pulled the phone away from his mouth and spoke to the driver. “Pull over, let me out here.” I heard the car door shut and muffled words as he exited the cab.

“I’ll get a flight first thing in the morning.”

“You have interviews to do. Your dipshit boss is already up your ass because of me. Stay. I don’t even know what’s going on yet.”

“But…”

“Get some sleep. I’ll text you when I know more.”

“Please do.”

“Yeah. All right. I’m gonna run. The hospital is only another block away, and I probably should call Willow and let her know what’s going on.”

I stayed up for a few hours hoping to hear from Brody again, but he still hadn’t texted before I fell asleep. I hated that I was so far away. I wanted to be there for him. Just sit by his side if he was going to hear bad news, to bring him comfort. And maybe, just maybe, there was a selfish part of me that wanted to make sure no one else was sitting in my seat offering him that comfort.

The emergency rooms you see on television are a crock of shit. Doctors and nurses running down the hall with gurneys, one kneeling and performing CPR on a patient as others maneuver toward some big double doors that open on their own—yeah, right.

I looked around the depressing gray room, almost every seat taken as people waited. And waited. Three women dressed in blue uniforms sat behind thick plated-glass windows, chatting away and drinking coffee. Two security guards stood at the entrance door. It felt more like a prison waiting room than a hospital.

Two hours had passed with no updates. I walked to the reception window and waited, twisting my necklace nervously. The women continued to ignore me until one eventually looked up at me, annoyed.

“Can I help you?”

“My grandmother was brought in a few hours ago.”

“Did we call her name?”

“No.”

“We’ll call her name when the doctor is done examining her and give you a status update.”

The woman’s eyes stared above me, a non-verbal Next.

I went back to my seat and finished picking the nail polish off my nails, then went to the ladies’ room. I had been holding it in, not wanting to miss being called, but Mother Nature had grown impatient.

When I came back, Brody was at the reception counter speaking to the nurse. I wasn’t surprised he’d shown up. The nursing home had told me they’d left him a message. Yet seeing him standing there still stopped me in my tracks for a second. Even though he’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me, I walked to the window and joined him. He nodded at me in acknowledgment and continued his conversation with the same miserable nurse who had just turned me away. Except now, Miss Miserable was smiling. And she apparently could get up from her chair.


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