Game On(60)

Nathan’s family insisted that he had cleared it with them.

“We’re going to see him tomorrow,” his mom assured me, when I tried to get them to wait with me on the field. “He wants to see you.”

“Besides,” Maureen teased, “he’s pretty insufferable after he’s won a game. Acts like he’s a big deal, or something.”

Somehow I couldn’t imagine that, and by the look on her face, a big open smile, it was clear she didn’t believe it either. So I said goodbye to Nathan’s family, feeling strangely sad that I wasn’t able to spend more time with them. Even though I had been tongue-tied at first, they proved to be very easy to talk to once I stopped second-guessing everything that came out of my mouth. I would even venture to guess that they liked me. At least, I hoped so.

In fact, the whole evening had given me hope. Obviously Nathan thought there was something between us. Guys didn’t just invite any girl they wanted to sleep with to spend the final game of their college career with their family. He had felt something between us. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this. Whatever this was.

I rubbed my hands against my arms. It was surprisingly chilly on the field, and the jersey Nathan had given me was thin and didn’t provide much warmth. I felt a little awkward standing there next to the gate leading onto the field, but that’s where I had been directed to wait. The stadium was near empty now, the press box dark. Even Mandy had gone.

“I promised Chris I’d meet him after,” she had said when I tried to get her to stay. “Besides, what do you need a wing-woman for? Nathan is easy.” She had given me a wink and a hug. “Call me tomorrow, OK?”

I heard footsteps and whirled around to find Nathan walking towards me. He looked amazing, his hair damp against the collar of his button-up shirt, which was tucked into a pair of gray slacks. In his hand he had a red rose, which he held out to me. Suddenly I felt quite underdressed. I preferred, of course, to be undressed with him, but I could be patient. For now.

“I should be the one bringing you things,” I said, taking the rose and bringing it to my nose. It smelled wonderful, but not as good as Nathan did as he stepped closer and put his arm around me.

“I want to show you something.” He led me out to the center of the field, to the pitcher’s mound. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me so I was facing the stands. He pointed to a spot behind where the catcher would be. “You see that seat?”

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really focusing since I was so distracted by how great he smelled. Yep, I was smelling him again, and this time I wasn’t even the least bit embarrassed. If he came in cologne-form I would douse myself in this scent every fricking day. And all night long.

“That’s what I was watching each time I came up here. Do you know who was sitting there?” He came around to face me. I was speechless, since I already had an idea of what he was going to say. “You. That’s where you were sitting. And every time I felt nervous, I would just look over and see you there and I would feel better.”

“Glad I could be of service,” I said like a total idiot, but Nathan just smiled.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

“What do I think of what?”

“Would I make your fantasy draft?” he wanted to know, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh yes,” I responded immediately, thinking, of course, of an entirely different kind of fantasy.

He laughed and I could feel my pulse pounding in the silence of the stadium.

“Sophie Hall.” Nathan took my face in his hands. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” I felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest. All the doubts I had been entertaining the past few days disappeared in a flash. This felt right and I wasn’t going to fight it.

“Good.” He leaned down and gave me the softest kiss. “So what are we going to do about it?”

I licked my lips and watched his eyes go hot. Volcanic hot. “I have a couple of ideas.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight


When we got to the hotel, instead of pulling the car around to the front, Nathan steered it towards a back section of the hotel I had never noticed before.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he told me, helping me out of the car.

“You seem to be fond of surprises,” I answered, hoping he’d like the surprise I had planned for him, namely the black lace lingerie I was wearing under my jeans and jersey. Lingerie I had hoped most fervently I’d be showing him tonight.

“Come with me.” He pulled me towards a door marked employees only.

“Are you sure we should be here?” I asked as I followed him up a flight of stairs.

“A friend of mine works here,” he told me. “How do you think I got in and out to see you without drawing suspicion?”

He opened the door to a small service hallway with an elevator at one end and pulled out a keycard, swiped it, and pushed the button. The doors dinged open.

“Going up?” he asked with a wicked grin.

I couldn’t help it; the minute the elevator doors closed, I was on him. It had been too long since we had touched and that soft, gentle kiss on the pitcher’s mound had only ignited my need for him. Pressing my body against his, I tilted my head up to meet his lips, my tongue twisting with his as he gathered my hair in his fingers. He spun me so my back was against the elevator door, one hand dipping down to the small of my back and then lower, cupping my ass so I was pressed firmly against him. Against the hard, hot length of him. I wasn’t sure I could make it to my room. I wasn’t sure I could make it to the next floor. Then again, beds were totally overrated. What was wrong with an elevator wall?