night. “I don’t shit talk about the score.”
I knew I had to block this time, but I wanted those points. I needed them. I gritted my teeth together, determined to get open. If Wes saw me in the end zone, he would throw it to me no matter what play he called. We were alike in that way—we both loved to score.
I faced the Warriors’ front line. I glared at the man in front of me. His nostrils flared and his knuckles were white from pressing into the grass with over three hundred pounds of weight. I’d studied him. He was strong, but sluggish.
“You’re not getting past me,” he threatened.
“You sure about that?” I smiled, cocking my head to the side.
He was leaning so far forward it would be easy to throw him off balance. As soon as Wes took the snap I hurled myself forward, throwing the lineman to the ground. He grunted, reaching for my legs, but I was ready for the arms and hands that would come for me. I jumped high over his back, running past him into the end zone. Persons and I were on opposite sides of the goal post, but he had double coverage and I was wide open.
I felt the surge of adrenaline. The energy sizzle under my skin. I needed Wes to see me, and this play was mine.
The ball zipped close to my head and I caught it with one hand, yanking it from the air. There was no way to describe the feeling. The purity of the moment when I scored for the team. It was fucking unreal.
The Warrior crowd started throwing popcorn and beer cans down from the stands. Stubbs gave me a high-five and I felt like the luckiest bastard here. Back-to-back touchdowns and it was only the first quarter.
I tossed the ball into the first row to a kid wearing a Wranglers jersey. He jumped up and down. There were a few of our faithful here. Only you couldn’t hear them because the locals were so fucking obnoxious.
I crossed the field and took a cup of water while we waited for the field goal team to kick. I smiled. It was fourteen to zero and it was exactly the way we wanted to start the season.
I felt the high. The rush from scoring. The feeling that I was invincible. Nothing could stop me. Not the Warriors. And then I looked up and saw her marching in my direction toward the goal post. I swallowed hard. She was getting closer and I realized she spotted me too. I was on the edge of the bench closest to the goal line.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see her. I couldn’t stop staring at her legs, or her breasts spilling out of that top.
I didn’t know how this would work, but I wasn’t leaving Warriors stadium without her number. She looked up at the crowd and ignored me, but I knew she felt it too. We had an unmistakable draw toward each other.
It was everything I didn’t want. Everything I said I had to stay away from. A distraction. The thing that could get in my head. The one thing that could bring me down. But she was twenty yards away, and she was the only thing here I wanted.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
“You need more water?” the attendant asked. I didn’t realize he was standing close to me.
I crumpled the cup in my fist. “Yeah. Colder next time.”
He ran toward the drink station. But I wasn’t paying attention to him, or the punt return. My eyes were on Natalia.
Twelve
Natalia
W e were one side closer to the Wranglers’ bench and I was so nervous my knees were about to give way. Sam saw me as we walked toward the short end of the field. He didn’t just look at me. It was a full-body stare, raking over every inch of me. My spine tingled from it, remembering how he undressed me last night.
How he ran his tongue over my skin. How he kissed me. How he felt when he pushed into me, taking me somewhere I’d never been. I let him do things to my body I’d only heard about. It was incredible and magic and hot and all the things I needed to forget.
Presley tilted her head toward me. “Okay, something is up. You are totally off rhythm, Miss Ballerina.”
I glared at her.
I knew I had to block this time, but I wanted those points. I needed them. I gritted my teeth together, determined to get open. If Wes saw me in the end zone, he would throw it to me no matter what play he called. We were alike in that way—we both loved to score.
I faced the Warriors’ front line. I glared at the man in front of me. His nostrils flared and his knuckles were white from pressing into the grass with over three hundred pounds of weight. I’d studied him. He was strong, but sluggish.
“You’re not getting past me,” he threatened.
“You sure about that?” I smiled, cocking my head to the side.
He was leaning so far forward it would be easy to throw him off balance. As soon as Wes took the snap I hurled myself forward, throwing the lineman to the ground. He grunted, reaching for my legs, but I was ready for the arms and hands that would come for me. I jumped high over his back, running past him into the end zone. Persons and I were on opposite sides of the goal post, but he had double coverage and I was wide open.
I felt the surge of adrenaline. The energy sizzle under my skin. I needed Wes to see me, and this play was mine.
The ball zipped close to my head and I caught it with one hand, yanking it from the air. There was no way to describe the feeling. The purity of the moment when I scored for the team. It was fucking unreal.
The Warrior crowd started throwing popcorn and beer cans down from the stands. Stubbs gave me a high-five and I felt like the luckiest bastard here. Back-to-back touchdowns and it was only the first quarter.
I tossed the ball into the first row to a kid wearing a Wranglers jersey. He jumped up and down. There were a few of our faithful here. Only you couldn’t hear them because the locals were so fucking obnoxious.
I crossed the field and took a cup of water while we waited for the field goal team to kick. I smiled. It was fourteen to zero and it was exactly the way we wanted to start the season.
I felt the high. The rush from scoring. The feeling that I was invincible. Nothing could stop me. Not the Warriors. And then I looked up and saw her marching in my direction toward the goal post. I swallowed hard. She was getting closer and I realized she spotted me too. I was on the edge of the bench closest to the goal line.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see her. I couldn’t stop staring at her legs, or her breasts spilling out of that top.
I didn’t know how this would work, but I wasn’t leaving Warriors stadium without her number. She looked up at the crowd and ignored me, but I knew she felt it too. We had an unmistakable draw toward each other.
It was everything I didn’t want. Everything I said I had to stay away from. A distraction. The thing that could get in my head. The one thing that could bring me down. But she was twenty yards away, and she was the only thing here I wanted.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
“You need more water?” the attendant asked. I didn’t realize he was standing close to me.
I crumpled the cup in my fist. “Yeah. Colder next time.”
He ran toward the drink station. But I wasn’t paying attention to him, or the punt return. My eyes were on Natalia.
Twelve
Natalia
W e were one side closer to the Wranglers’ bench and I was so nervous my knees were about to give way. Sam saw me as we walked toward the short end of the field. He didn’t just look at me. It was a full-body stare, raking over every inch of me. My spine tingled from it, remembering how he undressed me last night.
How he ran his tongue over my skin. How he kissed me. How he felt when he pushed into me, taking me somewhere I’d never been. I let him do things to my body I’d only heard about. It was incredible and magic and hot and all the things I needed to forget.
Presley tilted her head toward me. “Okay, something is up. You are totally off rhythm, Miss Ballerina.”
I glared at her.
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