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“I-I just want to say thank you for saving me. I mean, for, um, for taking the hit. I shouldn’t have been on the sideline like that…” She raises a light pink thumbnail to her lips and bites down gently.
“Georgia–” I start, but she quickly overrules me.
“I’m not done.” She sighs and gently pushes a loose curl away from her face. “I’m sorry I mentioned your girlfriend in a negative way. I have no right to control who you date, or to be mad about it. At all.” She glances around the room, attempting not to notice that I’m naked.Her cheeks are burning red.
From the heat or because of me?
As she looks behind her, I allow my eyes to linger on her flushed chest – her breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. Her waist is noticeably delicate as her tight black tank top clings against her olive skin.
I look away, darting my eyes towards the posters of my teammates lining the locker room walls, my growing erection thankfully subsiding beneath the thin towel around my waist.
“Henry? Are you going to respond?” Her quiet voice snaps me back into reality, and I allow my eyes to meet hers.
“Y-Yes,” I stammer. “I’m sorry… I’m really confused. Natalia is not my girlfriend. She’s not my anything.”
“She’s not?” She shoots me a look of confusion, her brows creasing slightly as she thinks.
“No… why would you think that?” My breathing is heavy as a wave of stinging pain courses through my upper arm and into my injured shoulder.
“Eleanor told me that, after I left your house a few weeks back, Natalia went up to your room. She says you’ve been with her for a few years, and that Natalia was bragging about your, um—” she glances down towards my dick, which awakens under her gaze, “— abilities,” she concludes, shuffling awkwardly on her feet.
I shake my head, my heart pounding with realization.
“No, Georgia,” I whisper, my voice slightly breaking. I clear my throat and take a step towards her, closing the gap between us. The scent of vanilla fills my senses as I draw near to her, and I sigh with relief.
I thought I’d never smell her perfume again.
“I–”
“What the fuck is she doing in here?” Watson growls as he enters the locker room, his gaze trailing from Georgia’s face down to her breasts. He smirks.
“I-I’ve gotta go,” Georgia stutters. “Meet me at the Tribune office tomorrow. 8 o’clock.”
I nod in her direction as she hastily exits the room, my jaw tightened.
“Watson,” I grunt, slipping on a t-shirt and shorts from the bench beside me.
“Yes, captain?” he remarks sarcastically, his voice strained to an octave higher than normal.
I turn towards him, arms crossed against my chest. Burning soreness climbs up my aching shoulder as I move, and I breathe deeply to help subside the pain.
“I know what your plan was, and if I were you I’d back the fuck off. Quickly.”
He stops fiddling with his locker and glances back at me, his brows creased and eyes narrowed.
“Yeah? Or what?” he snarls.
I step closer to him, narrowing the space between us.
“Did you forget that I’m the team captain now? Clearly you haven’t, since you’re trying to get back at me for a choice I had no control over–”
“You could’ve turned down the position, dickhead.”
I inhale through my teeth, the air sharp and cold.
“Listen, Watson. If you ever wanna step on that field again – or keep all your teeth in your fucking face – you’ll leave Georgia alone. You’ll never touch her, never even look at her.”
He lets out a low whistle and chuckles maliciously.
