The Game (That Girl, #2)(53)
“Nah, don’t worry about it.”
His words say everything. He’s going to be leaving early to go back to Dallas. It’s everything he’s worked so hard for. It just sucks. I twist around in his lap and kiss his lips. I’ll kiss him every chance I get until our time is up.
“What was that for?”
“Because I can.”
I snuggle even closer to Levi, smelling his scent and trying like hell to replace all of today’s memories with him.
“This is a catchy song. What is it?”
I recognize the tune of it, but have no idea who sings it or what’s it called. Picking up my phone I look for the name of the song.
“No Doubt About It. It’s an older country song.”
“Dance with me?”
Levi and I dance for what seems like hours. I hold onto him as if he’s the only thing I have. The only problem is I don’t have him, only for tonight and whatever else he gives. We dance to old country and some more funky music, even though the old guys throwing darts aren’t impressed by it. The bartender even asks to have a dance with Levi, and of course I let her whirl him around the dance floor. We finally have to ask her to heat up our food. By the time we sit down to eat, I’m so excited I can barely put anything away. Levi never turns down food. He polishes off his huge steak and most of the fried appetizers along with the salads.
I think I’m on my fifth Corona while I watch him eat. The beer, music, dancing, food, and Levi have soothed my raging emotions for the night.
“Ready, baby? You look like you’re going to fall asleep.”
The word sleep causes me to yawn.
“I love it when you call me baby.”
Levi tosses a hundred dollar bill on the table, rises to his feet, and then picks me up in his arms. I don’t vocalize my worry about him hurting his neck this time. Instead I just enjoy his touch and the feel of his arms.
“Why do you love it, baby?”
I chuckle at his smartass remark.
“Dirty Dancing was one of my favorite movies growing up. Lynlee and I watched it all the time. Hell, we wore out a VHS of it. I always wanted to be Baby. The rebel.”
“Never seen it.”
“What?”
I nearly fall out of his arms with his comment. Who in the world has never seen Dirty Dancing? I’m pretty sure it’s considered unpatriotic to not watch it.
“Football. Dad. I missed out on a lot of stuff like that.”
“Well, we’re watching it when we find a hotel,” I say as I yawn.
As Levi drives, I realize how tired my whole body is. My eyelids grow heavy while the lines on the road blend into one.
***
Levi
I knew I should’ve f*cking gone back and rented a different vehicle. Watching my Jazzy doze off, and all I can think about is how uncomfortable she looks. If we had my Chevy, she could lie across the front seat and rest her head in my lap. I keep catching myself calling her my Jazzy, when in all reality she’s not mine. After watching what she went through today and learning about her baby, I’m one hundred percent sure I’m not man enough to be there for her forever.
I f*cking want her, though. Getting married and settling in with a wife has never crossed my mind until her. The couple weeks we spent apart while I trained non-stop damn near killed me off. Texting and calling her wasn’t near enough; I wanted to see her pale skin, bright smile, and bright blonde hair. I need her in my life, but no, I don’t deserve her. It’s always football in my world. It will be number one always.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her back in the bar that I’m going to be playing on Thanksgiving Day, which is almost two full weeks sooner than I thought. I’m f*cking stoked to get back out on the field and lead my team to another title. It’s what I’ve been pushing my body to the brink for. It’s the game I live on. I just hope I’ll be able to focus and play without her.
Lincoln told me to quit being a little douche and just lay it all out on the line to Jazzy. Explain how I f*ck up relationships, and I how I’m falling in love with her. Also, how bad my temper gets, and what a dick I can be when I don’t get my way, but I’m pretty sure she already gets that part. Jazzy has been way more open and honest with me than I have been with her. I know she’s waiting to hear three words from me, and I’m fairly certain she’d pack her bags and move to Dallas.
So many times I’ve wanted to ask her to move to Dallas with me, but then I remember how I’d f*ck it all up. Dad’s voice is always ringing in the back of my mind. He’d want me to focus on the game and my team, and lead my boys to the next ring, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it. Jazzy has showed me a different side to life where I’ve learned to enjoy being Levi and Number Eleven.
Jazzy’s head falls forward again as she tries to sleep.
“Fuck,” I mutter and jam my foot down on this piece of shit.
Top speed seventy miles per hour. Talk about testing a grown man’s f*cking patience level. Her head bobs to the side once more, bouncing off the glass, and I see red. I’ve never experienced such protectiveness over a woman before. I’ve stuck up for females and held doors open and tried to be a gentlemen in every way. Yes, I’ve f*cked my fair share, but they were always easy to walk away from. It’s different with my Jazzy. I lose control when she’s hurting, and I know for a fact I’ll never get enough of her in the bedroom. Well, I can’t really say bedroom, since I’ve f*cked her in every room of the condo and even out on the lawn.