Page 29 of Sportsball is for Lovers

He nods. “I’m running out to the lobby to grab our lunch.”

“Let me handle it.” That’s the least I can do.

Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since I last ate. Pulling out my phone, I check my glucose monitoring app. Yep—all signs point to it being lunchtime.

“I got you a sandwich and an apple juice, it’ll be here in twenty minutes.” Yoni gives me a hard look. “Your numbers are good? You look a bit off.”

My heart twists. “The juice will help.”

His eyes soften. “You need to take care of yourself, Jare.”

“I am,” I lie.

I should have been the one to buy his lunch; I should be reminding him to eat, not him worrying after me. That’s not the way this goes.

He shakes his head. “It’s like I have two fucking houseplants now.” He doesn’t explain, turning on his heel and returning to the table, where there’s a crowd of people waiting.

Meeting the delivery person in the lobby, I take the two heavy bags of food. The volunteers at the entrance to the ballroom look suspiciously at my assistant badge before letting me through.

Both of the women check me out. To my surprise, a little shiver runs down my back. They don’t look friendly; they look downright hungry.

And where usually that might turn me on… right now, it just makes my balls shrivel up.

Sadie is holding court with another author, readers circled around them and eagerly basking in their attention.

I get it. I’d kind of like to command her attention again, too.

Catching my brother’s eye, I heft the bags of food, and he clears a path for me before taking the bag and dividing the contents. I’m left standing there uselessly as the assembled people close in around me, clamoring for a glimmer of her attention.

Sadie doesn’t spare a glance for me as a plastic container is set beside her. She continues talking with her readers, gesticulating wildly. Yoni catches her hand, pushing a water cup into it, and she obediently takes a sip before handing it back to him and continuing her conversation.

There’s a guy across the aisle with his hands in his pockets. His gaze is trained on Sadie—Sylvie. He glances in my direction and I give him an up-nod, which he returns. Who is he? Maybe a boyfriend? It’s not like I have a claim on her.

The thought turns my stomach. I don’t. She’s nothing to me. A one-time hookup. (Okay, two times.) She’s my brother’s boss.

But she’s…

Blowing out a breath, I force myself to walk away and tour the rest of the gigantic ballroom. There are close to a hundred authors here. Some have fairly dense crowds surrounding their tables where others have much more sparse groups.

Those are the tables that draw my attention. Leighton is a bubbly brunette with a Southern drawl, a stack of dark romance books before her. Ashley is a sassy blonde who writes Regency romance. Delilah is a sarcastic librarian covered in tattoos who writes romantic comedies.

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know what any of these genres were, much less the difference between them.

The authors are happy to educate me. It almost reminds me of those book fairs we had in elementary school, where they brought in racks and racks of books to the cafeteria and we were only allowed to pick one or two to take home.

I’m a grown-ass adult, but I also have grown-ass bills, so my wallet won’t let me buy more than a few. As I wind my way through the tables, a handful of books call out to me. I’m not shy about purchasing. I have no compunction against reading romance novels. Sure, it might not be something I’ve done in the past; doesn’t mean I can’t start now. Clearly they have an allure to them I’ve never delved into before.

“Who are you here with?” Katja asks as she signs the sapphic high fantasy book I’ve selected.

“What do you mean?”

She laughs. “We don’t see a lot of straight, single men here.” She looks me over again. “And no offense, but I’m not getting a queer vibe from you.”

That’s fair. Although I experimented a few times in college, I quickly figured out that guys didn’t do it for me.

Kink, on the other hand? Yeah, that gets me going like nothing else.

Taking care of my partner? Her unwavering trust? Her complete submission? For as long as the scene lasts, I’m happy.