Risky Play (Red Card #1)(62)

Lucky pig.

Even Alfie sighed.

“Come,” I tried again.

She let out a sigh that said she was giving in and then straddled my lap as she sat down, wrapped her arms around me, and whispered in my ear, “I like waking up with you.”

“Does that mean yes?” I braced her hips with my hands.

Our foreheads touched. “That depends.”

“On?”

She pulled back, uncertainty in her eyes. “Just tell me now, so I know.”

“I’m completely lost.”

“Was it . . . am I . . .” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m a grown woman, I can handle the truth, but I need you to tell me now.”

“What am I telling you?” I whispered. “That you’re beautiful? That I can’t get enough of you? That I’m going to be dreaming about your thighs wrapped around me during practice?”

Her lips parted briefly. “No. That. I mean.” She smiled. “I was just hinting that if this was a one-time thing—it’s okay to tell me.”

“I want you more than once. I took you more than twice.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “It wasn’t a one-night stand in Mexico, it’s not a one-night stand now. I’m not doing this to get you out of my system—if anything, I’m obsessed with keeping you in my system, in my soul, in my blood. How’s that for a confession?”

She pressed her lips together and then full-on smiled. “Pretty good, could use some work, but you still have jackass-like tendencies, so I’m forgiving.”

I smacked her on the ass, then squeezed. “You’ll pay for that later.”

“Counting on it,” she teased, crawling off me and grabbing another piece of bacon, nipping it with her teeth while she started humming and moving around the kitchen.

Unease rippled through my body.

Because the last time things felt this good—this . . . perfect. Was when I walked in on my best friend and fiancée doing reverse cowboy.

“You should hurry up.” Mack poured herself another cup of coffee.

I jumped to my feet. “Don’t forget lunch.”

She was mid-sip so just waved while I ran back to the room to get changed.

And the feeling?

The dread.

Followed me all the way to the stadium.





Chapter Forty-Four SLADE

I gave Jagger a wide berth.

I was afraid if he opened his mouth I would force it shut with my fist and then end up getting pulled into Coach’s office.

I didn’t hate him.

Hate meant you wanted to kill someone.

And I’d like to think all the sex tamed me a bit, or at least my thoughts. Though I wouldn’t exactly be upset if his dick just fell off and got run over by a semi.

“There a reason you’re staring at that soccer ball like you want to hump it?” Matt took off his sunglasses and shoved them in his suit jacket. “Because I can leave you two alone if it’s necessary—and I signed an NDA, so I can’t say shit to the press about your kinky fantasies.”

I sighed. “I was thinking, not about humping, just—” I gave my head a shake. “It’s nothing, I know it’s nothing. I just have a bad feeling.”

“A feeling?” Matt repeated, his tone sharp, his expression concerned. “And when did this feeling start?”

“Post-sex. Breakfast. There was bacon, she was half naked and straddling me—”

“I really don’t need that sort of detail.” Matt held up his hand. “And I’ve known you for years, you’re just gun-shy. Who wouldn’t be, after last year?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Matt put his hands on my shoulders and pressed down. “Trust me. You’re the kind of guy that gets worried when things are going right because he’s so damn sure that they’re about to go wrong . . . but that’s not how the universe works, alright?” He dropped his hands. “So snap out of it and go kick some balls around so I can take your stupid Instagram photos.”

I grinned at that. “Hey, that’s how I get followers.”

“You have twenty million. Do you really need more?” he wondered out loud. “I know it strokes your ego to get marriage proposals and compliments.” He changed to a falsetto. “‘He’s so cute, so hot, I’d let him touch my balls.’”

I made a face. “The hell?”

“Oh, that was last night’s message. He was fifty, I’m sure his balls are very hairy and in need of attention—if you want me to reach out I can—”

“Matt.”

He laughed. “Fine, go do your thing, I’ll snap ten and post one of them in a few hours, alright?”

“I want to look sexy as fuck, Matt!” I joked, turning and running right into Jagger.

He stumbled back.

I stared him down.

He shook his head and sidestepped me.

“What? No hug?” I called after him.

He flipped me off with his right hand and kept walking.

I grinned. “That’s what happens when you get the girl.”

Matt gave me a look that was more concerned than anything. “You realize it’s not just about getting her—it’s about keeping her.”