AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Goddamn! Way to execute.” Coach Williams slaps their shoulders, too. “Sorry,” he says to the reporter. “You filming?”
She laughs, shaking her head no while I try sneaking by her. Not because I’m naked and need a shower, too. It’s because the press and fans are feral for Blair.
They won’t stop asking me about her.
Thankfully, some fans with a box suite in our stadium are also big fans… of Blair’s. It seems the CEO of Atlanta’s famous beverage company is also a romance reader. She saw the frenzy Blair experienced in the stands during our first home game and invited her to join her in their company’s suite.
So, our woman is safe from the crowds and fans, but not the press.
Neither am I.
“Bronson. Bronson.” The reporter snags me sneaking by.
I turn, nude and smiling. “Yeah?”
“It’s your fourth straight win,” she says. “Can you talk about your confidence in Colton Hawke? He’s leading in receiving yards. Are you surprised?”
“No. He’s a big part of our offense. Our players are really showing their blocking skills and their flexibility, too, this season. Martinez. Goodwin. Smith. Everyone. Our defense, as well. We got some damn good players.”
“And you?” She looks me in the eye, not at my naked body. She’s a pro. “Are you looking forward to Philadelphia next? They’re 4-0, too.”
“Yeah. Should be a good matchup.”
“Speaking of matchups,” she has to ask. It was all over ESPN this week. “Is what Duncan Monroe said about you and his daughter, Blair, true?”
I don’t have to force my smile. “It’s true I’m in love… ” I pause, “…with the game.” Then, I wink, ending the interrogation.
Off camera, the reporter winks back. It’s not unprofessional. She understands I’m trying to respect Blair and protect her privacy.
The hype about us is out of control.
Then, her father bragged to a reporter last week that Blair and I are getting married, like any day now, and he made it worse.
It’s not that I don’t want to get married. I do. But not now.
Something special like that? I want to make a romantic proposal. I want to do it right. I want to give Blair her dream wedding with no expenses spared. So, it has to be done in the off-season, which is months from now.
Besides, where does that leave Colt?
I suds up beside him. Being naked with Colt and dozens of men in the shower is nothing new. It’s part of the job. It never fazed me.
But reporters asking about marriage?
That’s awkward.
Even our teammates feel it.
“Bronson!” Goodwin shouts across the tiled room. “Marry that hot Monroe woman, so they’ll quit asking about her and focus on the real story.” Goodwin beams, shampoo suds streaming down his brown skin. “Me and my Good Wins!”
I laugh. So does Colt.
“Come on now!” I shout back. “You know the only fucking ring I’ll score this season!”
And the team hollers, “Rise up!”
It’s the Atlanta slogan and true. At this rate, Super Bowl rings are in our grasp.
Colt laughs about it on the way to the players’ parking lot. “Just elope over Thanksgiving,” he says. “Do a vacation wedding on the beach so I can be the best man in a tight white Speedo.”
