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"Fuck, Jack," I whisper, and my hand reaches to fist his hair, knocking off his hat in the process.
My eyes fly open, because the hair I'm fisting feels nothing like Jack's. And without his hat, this guy looks nothing like him, either. Which is also stupid, because I've never seen Jack wear a cowboy hat, or any other kind of hat aside from his football helmet.
What the fuck am I doing?
I pull the man off me, tuck my rapidly deflating dick back in my jeans, and all but run out of that bar.
CHAPTER 33
JACK
"But why can't I stay with you?" Aniyah pouts.
"Ani, listen," I say, using the shortened version of her name as an endearment, because I can't stomach calling her anything else, even in front of people. "I told you, the team has to stay in the hotel."
"I thought that was just for before the game. I overheard that some of your teammates are going out clubbing downtown to celebrate the win." She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me expectantly.
I rub my hand over my face. "Well, you're welcome to join them, but I'm tired. I took a big hit, Ani." While I mostly just don't want to be forced out in public with Miss Spectacle herself, it is true that I got tackled pretty hard during the game. I actually had to sit out for a few plays before Coach would let me back on the field. "We've got our semifinals game in two days, on New Year’s Eve. We can party after that. Okay?"
Aniyah glares at me and stomps her foot a little. We're standing on the sidelines, with a few of my teammates just behind us. We just finished up some interviews after we successfully trampled Ole Miss 42 to 25. I'm dirty, I'm sweaty, I'm sore, and I'm irritated because I didn't want her to come to the game at all. But of course, her parents have tickets to every game, so she got to follow me to the bowl game. More than once the cameras sought her out, showing her on the jumbotron screens, standing up in her seat and waving her "#53 ON THE FIELD, #1 IN MY HEART" sign and turning around so everyone can see her "FUTURE MRS. PERRY" Jackals football jersey.
She huffs and I notice her eyes cut to someone behind me and narrow. A quick glance behind me shows Coach Nicks talking to a few of the sports reporters. My eyes don't linger on him the way I'd like. We've had very little contact since the Heisman awards, and he hasn't spoken to me at all since we got back from Christmas. I'm sure he saw the announcements, not to mention Aniyah's embarrassing public display. I never got a chance to tell him what the plan was. I didn’t make enough of an effort because I was afraid of his reaction. I'd be upset too.
I'm exhausted by it all, and to think that this is just the beginning makes my temples throb.
"Want me to come by later and give you a massage?" she asks, running her hands up my chest and around my neck.
I give her a pleading, don't fuck with me right now, look. Then I wrap one arm around her back and kiss the top of her head, just for show. Before I leave her pouting on the sidelines, I look up towards the box I know her parents are sitting in and wave. I have no idea if they saw me, and I don't really care. It’s all for show, anyway.
The guys are rowdy in the locker room, excited about our big win tonight. When I walk in, they start chanting, "Magic Jack," and try to convince me to come out with them.
"Y'all, I don't want to be a downer. I'm not feeling great and just need to lie down. But have a drink for me, and I’ll make it next time, alright?"
I hurry through my shower and head out before most of the guys are finished dressing, grabbing a rideshare back to the hotel. Before I go upstairs, I talk to the front desk and ask them not to share my room number or allow any visitors in case my crazy ass fiancée tries to come see me. The last thing I need is her showing up, especially when I plan to corner Bryant.
I have to get him to talk to me, so I can explain what I did and why I did it. I need to know if there's any chance of a future with this thing we have. Does all of this end when I leave Groveton? Either way, I want him to know his reputation is safe. I'm playing a long game here and he needs to know. After we're married and far away from her friends and family, I'm going to make Aniyah so fucking miserable she eventually decides she can't take it anymore, and hands all the evidence over in exchange for her freedom. She can keep the money and half of everything I have. I've lived on way less. Having any money at all feels like being rich when you've always had nothing.
Once I'm in my hotel room, I take a real shower. I put on a pair of dark grey lounge pants without underwear, and a tight, white t-shirt. I'd go shirtless, but I want to ease my way in by telling him I want to talk first. This shirt is just thin enough to see all the ridges of my muscles, without making it seem like I'm trying too hard. Between the shirt and the grey pants, with my cock so clearly, yet casually on display, one could think that I just wandered down the hallway to speak to him. Maybe if he's thinking about my body and sex while I'm explaining everything, he'll be a lot more amenable to the process.
Fuck. I don't know.
Bryant's room is on the floor above mine. I might have purposefully eavesdropped during check-in to get his room number. I was disappointed that his room was so far away, but at least the coaches' rooms are more spread out and the first string players don't have to share this time. Perks of having a whole hotel to ourselves for the bowl game.
I knock on the door, overthinking everything from the clothes I'm wearing to how hard I knock, just hoping he's in there. I've been trying to catch him alone since we checked in two days ago, but he's been in planning sessions and interviews down in the conference rooms. There's a chance he could be out celebrating with the other coaches, but that's never really been his style. Then again, I saw him drinking on the plane, so maybe he's venturing out more. I hope he's being safe.
Jesus, listen to me. I'm as clingy as my fake fiancée.
I hear a scratching sound behind the door, and I'm almost positive he's uncovering the cover of the peephole to see who's out in the hallway. Maybe I should have stepped off to the side so he couldn't see who it was.
"I'm going to have to make a scene to get you to open this door, huh?" I say, feigning more confidence than I feel.
There's a small thud against the door and a pause. Just as I'm about to bang on the door with my fist, the door opens. Bryant stands there, his hair wet from a shower, looking more delicious than ever. He's obviously tired. The dark circles under his eyes make the ring around his hazel irises more apparent. His scruff has grown out into a short beard that has a few streaks of grey, giving him a distinguished look. Manly. Sexy as fucking hell.
He gives me an expectant look, silently asking me what I'm here for, and my stomach knots. I need to be calm, casual. Though it's hard to play it cool when I'm imagining myself rubbing my face in his chest hair like a cat.
I clear my throat. "I just needed to talk to you. Alone."
"I was just getting out of the shower," he says. "Let me grab a shirt and we can walk to the ice machine?"
