Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(44)

“No, only a couple a year. Most of us choose one or two games to travel to. We’re lucky with this sport; the guys are home a lot, and away games only take them away from home for a few days.”

Nodding thoughtfully, I turn my attention back to the game. Will has the ball and is looking for somewhere to pass, but there just isn’t anywhere, so he runs. “Oh, shit. Go, Will!” I stand and scream, and then hold my fingers over my mouth as I watch him run, my stomach clenching in fear that he’ll get tackled and hurt, but he runs through the defense and another thirty yards into the end-zone.

“Yes!” I jump and scream and laugh. “Touchdown, babe!”

Will throws the ball to the ref and jogs back toward the sideline, his teammates high-five and slap his helmet in congratulations, and I just can’t stop smiling.

I’m so f*cking proud of him!

Tasha smiles over at me as I sit next to her. “He’s good.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“He’s a really great guy too,” she mentions casually.

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met,” I reply immediately. And I mean it.

I feel Tasha’s gaze on me, and I meet hers straight on.

“He’s a lucky guy.”

“No,” I shake my head and watch him take his helmet off and talk with a coach. “I’m the lucky one.” Will is nodding at what the coach is saying, his hands propped on his lean hips, panting with exertion from the last play. He looks up into the stands and finds us, his eyes lock onto mine and he winks and taps his nose, just like he did that first weekend, when he told me to watch at half-time. I am so f*cking lucky.

I smile widely and can’t help but sigh as he turns away to talk to some of the other guys.

“You have it bad, girl.” Tasha nudges my shoulder with hers. “And it looks like it’s mutual.”

I shrug smugly and take a sip of my diet soda. “I’m surprised how many fans travel this far.”

Tasha follows my gaze up into the crowd. There are thousands of fans in blue and green gear, cheering loudly.

“Oh yeah, the die-hards follow the team all season. And the groupies, of course.” She smirks and takes a sip of her soda.

“Groupies? Like rock star groupies?” I ask in surprise.

“Oh, honey, you haven’t had to deal with the groupies yet?”

I just frown and shake my head.

“Girls be trippin’,” she mutters and snorts. “It’s disgusting how far they’ll go to try to score with the team, pun intended.”

“Do some of the guys… um…”

“Sure, some do, most likely. Especially the rookies.” Tasha rolls her eyes. “But most of the guys are smart enough to steer clear of those women. They’re just bad news.”

“I had no idea.”

“Well, honey, they’re famous. Not to mention, hot, athletic and rich. Of course women are gonna wanna f*ck them, and hopefully catch a ring on her finger.”

“Gross.”

“And dumb,” she nods in agreement. “Which our guys aren’t. Will’s never gone in for that scene, Meg.”

Surprised, I look over at her. “I didn’t think he would.”

“I’m just sayin’.” She applauds as we get another first down. “Are you guys coming out with us tonight?”

“I don’t know, I just got to town last night. I’m not sure what the plan is.”

“Well, the guys usually have to travel back with the team, but since they have the week off for the bye-week, they can do what they want. A bunch of us were gonna go to dinner and maybe if they’re not too sore, do some dancing.”

“That sounds fun.”



*



We won, 21 to 7.

I just can’t stop smiling. God, what a rush, to be there in that stadium, watching Will lead his team. He’s so commanding and strong.

Just the way he is with me.

We are waiting in the hotel lobby for our guys. They had to go back to the locker room to shower, deal with the press, and because they’re off for the week, have a short meeting before being turned loose.

I’m texting with Jules when I hear someone shout, “There they are!”

Unfortunately, the press followed us back to the hotel, so photographers are snapping photos of the guys as they push their way into the lobby. There are also fans standing around, hoping for autographs and photos with their favorite players.

Will comes through the doors, looking fantastically delicious in a grey button down shirt and black slacks, his hair still damp from his shower. Flashes are going off all around him, and fans are pushing their way toward him, and to my surprise, he has about four security guards flanking him, holding people back.

His bright blue eyes are searching the crowd for me. When he sees me, hanging back from the crowd, his shoulders relax and he offers me his cocky grin and shrugs. I just nod and wait as he signs some autographs and poses for a few pictures. After pleasing everyone, he stalks toward me, wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me off my feet in a huge hug.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, babe.”

“Congratulations!” I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in. “You did so great! I am so proud of you!”

“The best part was having you there.” He sets me on my feet and gently tugs the sleeve of the jersey I’m wearing.