Scoring Wilder(93)

"Do either of you want to come with us to get dinner?" I asked Emily and Becca as we headed out of the locker room.

"Nah, Penn's picking me up," Becca said.

"I have a Skype date," Emily winked. She and her boyfriend probably kept Skype in business, but I couldn't blame them. I'd do the same thing if Liam lived across the country.

"All right, I'll see you guys later then!" I waved as we parted ways. They headed toward the parking lot and I turned to find my tiny cheering section waiting for me at the base of the bleachers. I couldn’t help the smile from unfolding across my face at the sight.

"There she is!" Mrs. Wilder cheered, throwing her hands in the air. I laughed and shook my head as they all clapped loudly. They really were making a big deal out of this.

"For someone that hates being in the limelight you guys sure know how to put the attention on me," I joked, stepping up to the group and giving my mom a side hug. She squeezed me back hard before letting go. A bright camera flash caught the entire exchange, momentarily blinding me.

"All right, All right. Let's go eat and we'll only talk about what a stellar soccer player you are as we walk to the car," my mom promised.

I’d felt cheerful walking up to the group, but my endorphins from the game started wearing off as soon as I was reminded of the shuttering cameras. The paparazzi were completely impossible to ignore, even as I tried to push their presence to the back of my mind.

I hadn’t searched my name on the internet since that night a few days ago, but I knew it wasn’t getting better. As long as Liam and I were together, I would be in front of the spotlight, and I had to consider if I was doing the right thing. I was putting a lot on the line for a guy that was probably as ready to commit to a relationship as George Clooney was.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


Thursday evening, I was standing in Liam's kitchen starting on dinner. Both of our moms had left the day before, and we were finally going to get some alone time. He was due home from practice any minute, which is why I was moving around the room like a madwoman trying to get everything prepared.

I was making lasagna and a salad that my mom had given me the recipe for. My first idea had been to cover myself in rolls of sushi and let Liam eat them off of me, but Becca said she didn’t want to picture my naked ass every time she tried to order a California Roll. Some kind of friend she was. I threw some cranberries and walnuts on top of the salad, and then popped the lasagna into the oven just as Liam opened his back door.

Show time.

I closed the oven and twisted around to spot him standing in the doorway. He’d showered after practice and was wearing worn jeans and a white t-shirt. I smiled down at my own wardrobe. I'd slipped on a pair of skinny jeans that I knew would drive him insane and a blue v-neck that was comfortable, but sexy.

His hair was still damp from the shower and he had one sexy brow arched at the sight before him.

"I'm preparing a feast," I announced with a flourish of my hand.

"I see that. It smells awesome," he complimented, dropping his workout bag and keys on the table and continuing toward me. "I like this sight as well."

"The mess?" I asked, gazing down at the cheese, pasta wrappers, and the cutting board with chopped up tomatoes and onions. There was tomato sauce spilled on the counter as well. Had I managed to put anything actually in the damn lasagna?

He stepped closer still, coming to stand right behind me so he could wrap his arms around my waist.

"No. You in my house when I get home from practice," he answered, eliciting a wave of goose bumps.

"It was fun, like I was playing house in someone else's kitchen,” I shrugged. “I swear I'll clean all of this up."

He chuckled and spun me around so that my back was to the counter. "We'll clean it up. What's in the oven?"

"A lasagna," I answered, feeling his lips briefly make contact with my neck. It was enough to elicit a soft moan.

"How long do we have until it’s done?"

I cocked a brow as his hand drifted beneath my shirt. "About an hour. I just put it in."

A seductive smile spread across his lips and I suddenly knew I was in trouble.

"Well, I've had almost a full week without getting to touch you and I'd like to make up for that," he said, lifting my shirt and skimming his hands upward, over my ribcage and breasts.

I lifted my arms up over my head and cast him a devious smile as he pulled off my shirt and tossed it onto the kitchen table. His gaze drifted down to the swell of my breasts peeking out of my black bra and his eyes narrowed slightly at the sight before him. High five, Mrs. Victoria Secret.

I dropped my hands to undo his jeans and then I pushed them down his long toned legs. Everything about him was worthy of worship, but those soccer legs made my sexual prowess shine. I let my hands drift over his thighs and back up, watching as he hardened beneath his black boxer briefs.

He was every ounce of man, and as I scored over his body, I realized that I wanted to be completely taken by him. He tugged his shirt over his head and then reached down to wrap his hands around my biceps, pulling me to my feet. I didn't have time to catch my footing before his hand was dipping down the front of my jeans. He unbuckled them and the zipper gave way as his finger sank into me. My mouth fell open, but no sounds escaped. He slowly withdrew his finger before sinking into me again.