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EMMA
The shrill ring of my phone jolts me from my thoughts. I glance at the screen and see it’s Holly calling. For a brief moment, I consider ignoring it, not feeling up to one of her enthusiastic pep talks. But I know she’ll just keep calling until I answer.
“Hey Hol,” I say, trying to inject some energy into my voice.
“Emma! Girl, we are going out tonight,” Holly’s voice bubbles through the speaker. “It’s Friday and you cannot keep moping around that sad little apartment of yours.”
I sigh, flipping through the stack of notes on my desk. Player stats, schedules, bios—the never-ending tasks of a player manager. “I don’t know, Holly. It’s been a long week and I’m beat.”
“Uh uh, no excuses. You need a night out. We all do! Especially after that grueling week.”
I know Holly won’t let this go easily. When she gets an idea in her head, she’s like a dog with a bone.
“Okay, fine,” I relent, sitting back in my chair. “But just a quick drink, nothing crazy. I’m still wiped from dealing with the guys today.”
“Yesss, that’s my girl!” Holly’s enthusiasm is infectious even through the phone. “I’ll come get you at eight. Wear those cute earrings!”
The line goes dead before I can respond. I set down my phone and stare blankly at the mess of papers on my desk, Holly’s words lingering in my mind.
She’s right, it has been a long week. And an emotional rollercoaster ever since my fragile truce with Xavier at the fundraiser that ignited all this. I absently touch my lips, remembering the feel of his mouth on mine, his hands on my body as he thrusted his hard and thick... The memory sends a now-familiar heat curling through me even now.
I try to refocus on the task at hand—finalizing the stats and schedules for next week’s preseason game. But concentration eludes me. My thoughts keep drifting back to Xavier. The way his hand pressed into the small of my back as we posed together for the cameras. The smoldering look in his eyes when I grabbed his lapels and kissed him in front of everyone, staking my claim.
A claim.
Shit.
I sigh.
A knock at my office door shakes me from my reverie. I sit up straight, smoothing down my blouse.
“Come in,” I call, shuffling papers on my desk.
The door swings open and Xavier saunters in, looking unfairly good in a fitted black t-shirt that shows off every sculpted muscle in that impressive torso of his. I fight to keep my expression neutral. I have no control, however, about the rush of arousal that floods my body.
“Emma. I swear you’ll lose your vision one day if you keep staring at videos all day.” His voice is light, gently teasing.
“Just going over the footage from this morning’s drills,” I say briskly, avoiding his eyes. I don’t have time for distraction right now, no matter how tempting.
Xavier leans against my desk. I can smell his spicy cologne mingling with the familiar scent of fresh sweat from practice.
Yup. Distraction.
“Yeah, about that. Your brother’s footwork was sloppy on those ladder drills. He needs to tighten it up.”
I bristle at the criticism, ready with a sarcastic argument, but bite my tongue. As much as I hate to admit it, Xavier has a point. Jeff’s fundamentals need work if he’s going to make it in the NFL. He has the speed, but not enough muscle memory. He thinks too hard. It should come naturally.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say evenly. “Anything else?”
Xavier shrugs. “Nah, just wanted to check in. Make sure we’re good after the other night.”
His voice drops on those last words. I feel my cheeks flush and keep my gaze fixed on the paperwork in front of me.
“It was a lovely night, and we’re fine. I should really get back to this.”
Xavier pushes off from the desk but doesn’t make any move to leave. His presence fills the small office, stirring up a confusing tangle of emotions. Attraction, frustration, and an almost magnetic pull, like planetary orbits destined to collide.
“I don’t get you. All work and no play...” Xavier muses, trailing off. His hand reaches out to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My breath hitches at the soft contact, and it takes an effort to keep my eyes open. “We could go out again, Emma. Have many more nights of fun, instead of just pretending like this. But you’re either hot or cold. Nothing in between?”
