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My heart swelled at his words. Part of me still needed to know I was good enough for him. For both of them. They might have thought I was confident because I enjoyed bossing them around in the bedroom, but shit, I needed to know they wanted me.
And judging by the hunger in both their eyes as they waited for my response, I didn’t need to worry.
“Go shower off that smell—”
“The smell of victory,” Mac said, grinning.
I slipped out of his arm and smacked his ass. “Naming it doesn’t change the scent, Michael.”
Em giggled and slipped out of his other arm. “Hurry. I can’t wait to get to the beach. When are we leaving?”
“The car’s all packed and waiting for us. We’ll get there around midnight and the two of you can sleep in the back while I drive.”
“Is that why you took a nap this morning?” Em asked.
I nodded, and she leaned against me, the floral scent of her shampoo battling the aroma of the locker room.
“And here I just thought you were turning into an old man.”
“You’ll regret those words later,” I rumbled directly into her ear.
Pink flooded her cheeks, and Mac groaned.
“I’m not keeping my hands to myself in the backseat,” he taunted.
I glared at him, but he only laughed. I already figured the two of them would put on a good show for me as we raced to the coast. If they thought they were defying me, they’d put on an even better show.
“Get in the shower,” I growled at Mac.
He sauntered off, shaking his ass until he disappeared.
“Does he know how easily you play him?” Em asked.
“Do you?” I smirked, and her blush deepened.
“Yes,” she breathed, surprising me. “And I love every second.”
“I love you so much,” I murmured.
Coach Locke walked up, clipboard in hand. “Have you seen the stats on the video you just posted?”
Em pulled her phone out, and her eyes widened. “The best one yet.”
“The three of you deserve a break tonight. Go have fun.” He clapped me on the shoulder and wandered off to the next cluster of players huddled together.
Sloan waved to us from across the room and Em yelled something about him playing a great game tonight.
“Can I get the recipe for those protein bars?” Strelow asked, plopping down on the bench next to me as he dried his hair with a towel. “I only have one left and I’m savoring it.”
I laughed and pulled out my phone. “I’ll send you the recipe, but I’m going to make another batch for the next game.”
“And practice?”
“And practice,” I assured him.
“Thank God. You’re the best, Bardot.” He winked and dropped his towel as he got to his feet. “And if you’re ever looking for a fourth person—”
“Strelow! I swear to God—” Em yelled at him before I could even get my bearings.
